


Aftershocks

by ALynnL07



Category: Red Dwarf (UK TV)
Genre: An Absolute Sap-Fest of an Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Compliant Character Resurrection, Chaste Rimmer/Lister, Daring Rescues at Zero Gravity, Drama, Dreams, Foolish but Tender Lister, Forehead Touching, Gen, Heavy Alcohol Use, Illusions, In-Dream Ballroom Dancing, Kryten being a Mother Hen, Nightmares, Non-Graphic Violence, Post-Out of Time, References to Holly, Resetting the Timeline, Rimmer-Centric, Rimmer/Lister Conflict, Rimmer/Lister Reconciliation, Shellshocked Rimmer, The Cat doing Cat Things, hand holding, music references, warm hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-18 13:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 52,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21611380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALynnL07/pseuds/ALynnL07
Summary: Rimmer fired one shot and destroyed the time drive, but his problems were just beginning.  While he reset time and saved his crewmates from certain doom, Rimmer is the only one who remembers the battle against their future selves.  The memories haunt Rimmer and warp into nightmares, and he can only deal with them for so long until he reaches his breaking point.  Set just after the Series VI Finale - “Out of Time”
Relationships: Arnold Rimmer & Kryten, Dave Lister/Arnold Rimmer, The Cat & Dave Lister
Comments: 9
Kudos: 39





	1. Encoded

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work that I have posted on AO3 in many years! I am very excited to finally bring this here for you all to read! It is not beta'd but I have tried my best to self-edit. Please keep that in mind.
> 
> Red Dwarf fans old and new, I hope you enjoy this. I've put my heart and soul into it, as well as a lot of work! It all started with a single idea. I wanted to write my own answer to the Series VI cliffhanger, as well as dealing with the aftermath of resetting the timeline. I also wanted to write Rimmer as the protagonist, and go along with the idea that he did take that shot on time to save everyone.
> 
> I want to dedicate this fic to my friends LizzieRimmsy, thewronglong on AO3 and gemothy on Discord. They have been my incredibly patient first-time readers, and also the ones who listened to my rambles and encouraged me every step of the way.
> 
> I also dedicate this fic to anyone who might be facing adversity or hard times. May you always find a lighthouse to guide you through choppy seas.

There have been many instances throughout human history where a single shot started great turmoil, terrible wars, and the fall of mighty empires. More often than not, the first gunshot, the first cannon fire, or the first bomb dropped were a sign of dark days to come. 

Curiously, the opposite was almost never the case. There weren’t many examples of a single shot ending a conflict, saving lives, and bringing peace where there once was none. There were no notable examples until now at least, when a single man with one chance actually fired, and set things right.

Only, Arnold J. Rimmer wasn’t exactly a man, he was a hard light hologram. And he had no idea if the single shot from his bazookoid was going to make a difference. Nevertheless, he persisted. Despite every sign, every doubt, every little nagging fear that he’d be too late to save the only ones who came close to caring about him, he loaded his weapon, took aim, and fired on his target.

The time drive, the source of all his troubles, shattered into a mess of metal pieces and melted wires.

And just as the time machine broke apart, Rimmer’s surroundings were beginning to piece themselves back together. The engine room of the spaceship _Starbug_ looked as if it were moving backwards in time, with the smoke clearing, pillars standing back in place, and the emergency lights shutting off, no longer flashing.

In an instant, Rimmer dropped the bazookoid and made a mad dash down the corridor.

There was no room for thought. Only one word mattered to Rimmer at the moment: forwards. He had to go forwards, to _Starbug’s_ cockpit. 

As Rimmer’s run continued, the walls and floors sprang back into shape ahead of him.

Rimmer reached the cockpit doors. His hand hovered over the switch to open them. He hesitated for at least a minute. What would he see on the other side? He half expected to see the image that haunted him: of Lister and the Cat’s lifeless, bloodied bodies on the floor, and Kryten’s empty eyes that no longer had their electronic spark.

And when the idea caught up to him, Rimmer was afraid, and more nervous than he’d ever been before any exam. The dread could have virtually paralyzed him, left him as a hologrammatic statue standing perfectly still. He would have stayed that way, if his anger wouldn’t have punched straight through.

Things couldn’t end like this! They’d all come so far, they’d seen so much, and Rimmer, against all common sense and logic, wanted more. He wanted more time, more moments, more of their company, and he wouldn’t accept a reality where the others were gone. Rimmer didn’t even want to imagine the idea of being completely and utterly alone in deep space.

They were safe, he told himself, as a plethora of mixed emotions threatened to overload him. They had to be safe.

Rimmer made a fist, and slammed it into the switch. When the double doors opened, he ran straight through.

“Lister! Cat! Kryten!” Rimmer shouted their names in a mix of hope and desperation. 

He took a few steps toward the center, when he heard a reply with a rather familiar Liverpool accent.

“We’re all here, Rimmer, where have you been?” Lister asked him. He had that stupid, annoying grin on his face that normally got on Rimmer’s nerves.

“Are you trying to play that game where you find each other by just using your voice?” The Cat asked. “You’re cheating, Goalpost Head! You’re supposed to start in the cargo bay!”

“Mister Rimmer, are you alright, sir?” Kryten said, looking at him with concern.

“I’m fine.” Rimmer replied, with some hesitation. “I’m perfectly fine.” He added, as if repeating the idea would somehow make it true.

Rimmer made his way past the others, and eased himself slowly into his chair. This took more effort than usual, as his mind was still processing whether all of this was real. His chair felt solid enough. The buttons at his console blinked with life, and just outside the nearby window was the big black, dotted with distant, silver stars. There were no other ships, except this one. As always, that came as a relief.

Just as he was feeling close to relaxed, Rimmer felt the others’ stares on him. What were they looking at him for? Didn’t they know it was rude to stare at people?

“Are you really alright, sir?” Kryten asked. “Perhaps it’s a trick of the light, but it looks like you’ve gone pale.”

“Holograms can’t go pale, Kryten. It must be time to change your eyes again,” Rimmer answered quickly. “Can anyone remind me what day it is?” He added, hoping to change the subject.

“It’s Saturday!” Lister exclaimed. “You woke us up at half-five in the morning so you could call your little morale meeting.”

“That meeting happened _last week_ , Lister!” shouted Rimmer. “And it was very important to me.”

“Last week?” The Cat screwed up his face in confusion. “Are you crazy? I know it was this morning! I remember picking out this suit and this earring before you even got out of bed!” he added, gesturing to himself.

“Something’s not right here.” Lister said thoughtfully. “How did Rimmer end up a week ahead of us?”

“I’m not ahead, you’re behind!” Rimmer argued. “Don’t you remember the unreality minefield?”

“What minefield?” Lister asked.

“And the time drive!” Rimmer exclaimed.

“Is that some kind of new steering wheel that drives us through time?” asked the Cat. “Where is it? I want to take it for a spin!”

Ignoring the Cat, Rimmer turned to Kryten, coming out of his chair and grabbing onto the mechanoid’s arms.

“Kryten, you remember what happened, don’t you?” Rimmer asked, with a hint of worry in his voice. “Explain everything! Tell them I haven’t lost my mind!”

Kryten placed a comforting hand over Rimmer’s shoulder. “Don’t fret, Mister Rimmer. I know your sanity chip is still in working order. In holograms, they’re built to last!” He said, trying to sound reassuring. 

“So you believe me!” Rimmer concluded.

“I _believe_ this is a matter we need to discuss in private, sir.” said Kryten. He glanced at Lister and the Cat, and looked back at Rimmer. “As one mechanical life form to another.”

“What’s with all this hush-hush business all of the sudden?” Lister asked. “You don’t have to hide anything, you can trust me!” He added, looking between the both of them.

“I suppose there’s no sense in keeping it quiet.” said Kryten. “Mister Rimmer has a glitch.”

“A glitch?” said Lister. 

“So that means he’ll get to skip ahead of me in that candy girl racing game!” exclaimed Cat. “That’s not fair!”

“It’s called _Sugar Rush_ , Cat.” Lister said flatly.

“So you’re telling me I have a bug in my core program?” said Rimmer. 

“It would explain everything, sir. Your false memories, your internal time clock being ahead, and the way you looked like you were taking in your surroundings for the first time.” Kryten explained. “A temporal glitch like this one is nothing to be afraid of. It happens to any computer generated life form with an extended runtime. No program is perfect.”

“What can I do about it?” Rimmer asked. “I can’t go on like this! If my mind is always a week ahead, I’ll be living in a permanent state of Deja vu! I’ll go peculiar!”

“That’s why it would be best if we got down to the medi-bay, sir.” Kryten suggested. “Once we’re there, I can scan your light bee for any signs of the glitch. Then I’ll put you into safe mode and remove it from your program.”

“What about us, Krytes?” Lister asked him. “Isn’t there anything the Cat and I can do to help?”

“It would be best if you both remained here for now, Mister Lister.” Kryten replied. “The glitch removal process is an extremely delicate operation. I’ll need at least four hours without interruption. You and Mister Cat will have to keep watch for us.”

“I can keep watch, no problem!” said the Cat, grinning. “You’re looking at the best nose in the galaxy!”

“I guess it’ll be us holding down the fort for now.” said Lister. He gave a mock salute to Rimmer, and smiled. “See ya in four hours, smeghead.”

“Don’t get comfortable, Listy. I’ll be back in three.” Rimmer replied.

Kryten and Rimmer made their way to the medi-bay without any more questions from the others. Kryten had been polite enough to shut the door behind them. He knew this would be a rather serious conversation about fixing Rimmer’s light bee. But for some reason, Rimmer didn’t appear to realize the true gravity of his situation. 

As a matter of fact, he was smiling, looking as if he’d just bluffed his way through a high-stakes poker game.

“Ah, Kryten, you were brilliant back there!” Rimmer exclaimed happily. “The way you delivered your cover story, you almost had me believing you.” he added, nodding towards the android. “If you looked a bit more human, I think you’d be a fine actor.”

Kryten was taken aback by Rimmer’s comments and stared at him, puzzled. “Sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I wasn’t acting back there.” He said.

“You can drop it now, Kryten. I could tell a performance when I see one.” said Rimmer. “You and I both know that I don’t have a glitch!”

“But you _must_ have one, Mister Rimmer, sir.” Kryten replied seriously. There didn’t seem to be even the smallest hint of sarcasm in his voice. “And it must be in its first stage. It tries to convince the hologrammatic thought circuits that nothing is wrong, giving a false sense of security while it spreads to more vital areas.”

Rimmer’s smile fell into a disappointed frown. “Kryten, you’re _serious_ about this, aren’t you?”

“I believe now would be the right time to be in Sincerity Mode, sir.” said Kryten. “If the glitch corrupts your light bee’s internal hard drive, the damage would be irreversible. Your personality and memories could be reset back to the first day they were recorded!”

“But what if I told you I don’t _have_ any corrupted files?” Rimmer asked him. “What if you just sat down, shut your know-it-all mouth, and let me _explain_ what happened seven days ago?”

“Before you mention anything, I will have to scan you first.” said Kryten. “It’s the only way to know whether you’re remembering something that is true, or if you’re experiencing a glitch-induced fever dream.”

Rimmer blinked and let out a resigned sigh. It seemed like Kryten didn’t remember the last seven days either. Why _would_ he remember? Kryten had been taken down, just like the Cat and Lister. Only Rimmer would recall his last charge and his single shot - it’s not like the others had a way of witnessing it. And while it appeared as if the timeline had gone back to a safe place to repair itself, something didn’t add up.

If the others were alive without their memories, why did Rimmer still have his? He had to find out. And as much as he loathed the idea of needing others' help, there was a chance Kryten’s little scan could give him answers.

Rimmer laid down on one of the medical beds, and shut his eyes.

“Alright, I’m ready for the scan.” Rimmer said. “Is this going to hurt at all?”

“You won’t have to worry about that, sir. It will be just like having an X-Ray.” Kryten told him. “You may want to close your eyes though. The light can be rather bright.”

Rimmer nodded, and eased the back of his head against the single pillow that was on the medical bed. When he closed his eyes, Kryten pressed a series of buttons on a nearby keyboard. A panel opened up in the ceiling, and a bright strip of light swept up from Rimmer’s feet and stopped just above the H on his forehead, before turning off. The ceiling panel then closed, and the sounds of a printer spitting out pages could be heard.

“All done, sir, it’s printing the results.” Kryten stated.

Rimmer opened his eyes, getting up from the bed. He had to blink a few times to adjust to the light in the room. He looked on as page after page was printed, until it finally stopped. Kryten took out the papers and began to examine them closely, all while Rimmer looked over his shoulder. They were written in medical jargon, so half the words looked like incomprehensible gibberish.

“Ah. This is extraordinary!” Kryten said as he flipped through the pages rather easily.

“Kryten, how is my file ‘extraordinary’ to you, exactly?” said Rimmer. “Are you about to name a new holo-virus after me? Will I flip to page 59 of the _Artificial Life Forms and their Ailments_ manual to find my face plastered next to an entry titled ‘The Rimmer Defect’? Is that going to be my legacy?”

“It’s a rather strange phenomenon, sir. According to the scan, all of your files are in perfect working order.” Kryten told him. “And yet, your memory chips have recorded events that have truly occurred seven days into the future.”

“Yes, I told you so!” Rimmer exclaimed, irritated. “You could have just believed me the first time.” he added bitterly.

“That’s not all, sir.” Kryten’s voice softened as he flipped to the last page, and then he handed it off to Rimmer. “According to these future memories, you’ve witnessed the deaths of me, Mister Cat, and Mister Lister.”

Rimmer placed his hand over where his heart would be, as the all too familiar feelings of guilt and panic were beginning to rise within him.

“Yes, that’s correct.” Rimmer said, his voice falling into a monotone. “But I did what I could to reverse it. I set back time by seven days, is that so hard to believe?”

“The evidence is in black and white, sir.” Kryten replied solemnly. “I must apologize, Mister Rimmer! For once, I really was wrong to have doubted you!”

“I suppose you’d have no way of knowing about it.” Rimmer replied calmly. “But the real question is, why do _I_ still know about it? If all of your memories have been reset, why do I still have mine?”

Kryten sat Rimmer down in a patient’s chair, and took his own seat in what would normally be a doctor’s chair in front of him.

“Sir, are you aware of how a holo disk records your memories?” Kryten asked him.

“It’s almost the same as when I was human.” Rimmer replied. “Soft light holograms have to rely on everything except touch and taste, but now that I’m hard light, I have all five senses at my command. Everything gets stored in my hard drive, just the way my brain would recall it, if I was still living.”

“Along with your senses, there are also programs encoded into your light bee’s internal hard disk. Think of them as running in the background.” Kryten explained. “One of these programs is a back-up black box. It records any instance where an accident, attack or other disaster wipes out the entire crew. It’s another way for the Space Corps to extract this data and send it to the crew members’ next-of-kin, so that they have a way of paying last respects.”

Rimmer took in the information, looking pensive.

“So, let me get this straight. I am programmed to record any memory from my senses, as well as any deadly disaster?” Rimmer asked him. He laughed at the irony. “I suppose it could be worse. I could be a race car driver and experience both simultaneously.”

“These memories seem like they would be a heavy burden on anyone, sir.” Kryten said somberly.

“Well, you said it yourself, Kryten.” said Rimmer. “It’s in my code. There’s nothing I can do.” 

“The only solution I could think of would be to erase your memory of these past seven days.” said Kryten. “You would be on the same page as the rest of us, and start off with a clean slate.”

“No. I can’t go through with that.” Rimmer answered him.

“Won’t you at least think it over?” asked Kryten.

“Kryten, I have a chance not to repeat a mistake that would cost us everything.” said Rimmer. “I know I haven’t always been the type of leader you and the others would rally behind. I’ve been a self-serving coward in both my lifetimes. And if you ask me next week, I’ll probably prefer the cozy back to the front lines ten times out of ten. But right now, I want you to give me a chance to face this and come to terms with it.”

“I can’t argue with your wishes, sir.” said Kryten. “This is the first time I’ve considered your actions to be truly admirable. And yet, I can’t feel anything but worry for you, Mister Rimmer.”

“I’ll be alright,” said Rimmer. “All we have to do is carry on like everything is normal. Now why don’t we make our way to the cockpit and tell the others I’m cured?”

“But we can’t head back yet, sir.” said Kryten. “It hasn’t been four hours yet. If we show up too soon, they’ll find holes in your cover story. My Lie Mode can only go so far. Maybe you should take some time for yourself and rest for now.”

“I suppose there’s no harm in taking a brief nap,” said Rimmer. “It would be the first time I got proper sleep without hearing Lister’s guitar or the Cat’s yowling in the wee hours of the morning.”

Rimmer climbed into a medical bed once more, this time pulling the white covers up to his shoulders. He rested the back of his head into the white pillow, which was the softest object on the cold, stiff bed. It was like resting his head on a cloud, while the rest of him lay against stone. The stiffness bothered him. It reminded Rimmer that this was not a place that was meant to be lived in or familiar, and it felt just a bit too impersonal to be comfortable. 

It felt like Rimmer was away from home. The definition of ‘home’ had changed for him over the course of both his lifetimes. But now, ‘home’ meant the bottom bunk inside his and Lister’s shared sleeping quarters. It was where he spent his time when there was nowhere else to be, trying to make sense of his astronavigation text books, listening to his favorite records, and sharing nonsensical late night conversations with Lister when the idiot wouldn’t fall asleep. For all intents and purposes, he’d just been there yesterday. But with the shift in time, it felt much longer.

But if Rimmer slept now, he wouldn’t have to think about being homesick. He would be back in the place he belonged soon enough.

“Wake me when it’s time, Kryten.” Rimmer said out loud as he shut his eyes. “I’ll be ready to take my seat at the helm soon.”

“Rest well, sir.” Kryten said. “I will see you in the afternoon.”

Kryten dimmed the lights. He knew that holo-sleep worked much like human sleep, and that it could be disturbed by loud noises, movement, or too much lighting. It was another one of those strange core programs loaded into every hologram. 

Urban legends said holo-sleep was invented after a Zed Shift janitor died of fright upon seeing a colleague’s hologram at three in the morning. Of course, Kryten knew that was preposterous, as there was nothing particularly scary or dark about three AM. The truth, which was often overlooked, was that holograms still thought, felt and acted so much like their human selves that they had to make time for naps and a full night’s sleep.

And just like humans, holograms tended to make faces when they were dreaming.

While Rimmer was wearing a peaceful expression, that was about to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Rimmer & Kryten bromance/platonic moment was completely unplanned, but I thought it worked quite nicely. Their interactions are sorely understated, so it was nice to write one. The next chapter, Rimmer's nightmares begin. It's going to be a bumpy ride!


	2. Waves of Deception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rimmer faces his first nightmare, and the crew come across new pockets of unreality. How will they cope with the ever-changing illusions?

Rimmer appeared to be inside _Starbug’s_ cockpit. The lights had gone out, and a thick plume of smoke filled the air. He could only piece together broken chairs, shattered glass, and the outline of three other figures on the floor with what little night vision his sight chips allowed him. Rimmer was holding on to something, or someone, and let go.

He felt an incredible sense of Deja vu. He’d seen this all before somewhere. No, that wasn’t entirely accurate. Rimmer hadn’t just seen it; he’d _lived_ all this before.

He’d just let go of Kryten’s shoulder when the droid could no longer answer him. Then Rimmer backed away slowly, before grabbing hold of a bazookoid and breaking into a run down the hallway. Rimmer shrugged off any debris that fell on him, gritting his teeth through the pain. He continued on, letting his sense of urgency drive him to his destination. Rimmer made it to the engine room, where expected to see the time drive, only to find something else taking its place.

There, in the darkened engine room, with the alarm lights flashing was the image of his future self. He was sitting at a small dining table, which was covered with a fancy white tablecloth. There were two white candles lit, one for each of them, set in silver candlesticks. In the middle there was a vase of white roses, and Rimmer could just make out the hints of golden glitter on their petals. And at each place of the table, was a full course lobster dinner.

Rimmer’s future self stretched his hand out to the empty chair that was just in front of him.

“I’m glad you could make it, Arnold.” said the Future Rimmer. “Why don’t you sit down? You look _exhausted_.”

The friendly gesture and the invitation did nothing to lower Rimmer’s guard, and he only gripped the bazookoid tighter as he loaded it.

“You and I have nothing to discuss.” Rimmer said fiercely. He threw the empty chair aside and pointed his weapon where the other hologram’s light bee would be located. “Now, get out of the way!” He shouted.

Rimmer’s future self grinned as he got up from his chair. He reached forward, grabbing the weapon’s barrel and pointing it downward. 

“You should put that down, Arnold. It’s dangerous.” said Future Rimmer. “You don’t want to shoot me. I am you, after all.”

“No, you’re not.” Rimmer answered, taking a step back and aiming towards the other hologram once more.

The Future Rimmer held up his hands and shrugged. “But you will become me. It’s your destiny.” he said. “If you try and resist, your crew mates will die. It’s already happened once. There is only one way to save them. You must surrender Arnold, or else your journey will end here.”

“You think you’re so smart. You come here in with your fancy meal, your stupid hackneyed words and thinly veiled threats. Except, there’s one thing you forgot.” Rimmer loaded the bazookoid, and steadied his arms. “I’ve wiped you out before, and I have no problems doing it again. Get the hell off my ship!”

Rimmer fired the shot. It blasted straight through his future self, and the other hologram’s form dissipated. The blast collided with the time drive, which was just behind him. A great explosion filled the engine room, and bits of shrapnel flew in a hundred different directions. Some of the time drive’s metal shards struck Rimmer several places in his chest. While a few of them did no physical harm, one of the bigger pieces embedded itself right into the center of his light bee.

Rimmer looked down at the place he’d been impaled in sheer horror. His hologrammatic image started to flicker, and the bazookoid slipped out of his hands onto the floor. He tried to turn around, but it was hard to control his own movements. Rimmer limped his way out of the engine room, clamping his hand over his stricken mid-section. By the time he made it to the cockpit, his image was barely visible.

And then, with the worried stares of Lister, the Cat and Kryten upon him, Arnold J. Rimmer fell, and turned off completely.

And just a few seconds later, he woke up in the real world, screaming.

The outside world came back to him in a rush of color, sound, and the clean, sterile scent that could only be found in hospital rooms. The rectangular lights just above him came into focus. He looked off to the right to find a _JMC_ standard eye exam chart, and off to the left to see a colorful public service poster that read:

Space Mumps are on the Rise! 

Get your Vaccine Today!

Now Rimmer was starting to remember. He was in the medi-bay, for some odd reason.

There was the sound of distant footsteps getting closer. Apparently, he wasn’t here alone. Someone else was here, saying his name. Rimmer looked in the voice’s direction, wondering if he would have to make a run for it. He wasn’t sure if his legs would respond in time to run fast enough.

Rimmer relaxed once he saw the figure come into view. It was only Kryten. If the android was here to fuss over him like a mother hen, then he wasn’t in any danger, at least for now.

“Mister Rimmer, what happened to you?” Kryten asked him worriedly, helping Rimmer sit up in his bed. “I was only just organizing the medicine bottles, when I suddenly heard you cry out in absolute horror!”

“There’s no need to exaggerate, Kryten. It’s not like I woke up calling for my mother.” Rimmer replied. “I just had a bad dream, that’s all.”

“Did you want to talk about it?” Kryten asked.

“Not really. I’ve already gone through it once.” said Rimmer. “I would rather not dwell on it, if it’s all the same to you.”

“But dreams are a window into your subconscious. They give the mind clues about underlying feelings or problems that you have yet to face.” Kryten explained. “It wouldn’t be wise to ignore them.”

“I’m not ignoring it, Kryten. I’m choosing to move on.” said Rimmer. “If I tried to pick apart every nightmare I had for symbolism and metaphors, we’d be here until this ship reached the end of the universe.”

“So what are you going to do?” Kryten asked.

“I’m going back to my chair and taking command,” said Rimmer. “That would be the best way for me to get back in touch with reality.”

“We have left Mister Cat and Mister Lister to their own devices for a little over four hours now.” Kryten said, in a warning tone of voice. “Are you sure you’re prepared to deal with any mischief they might have gotten up to?”

“There’s nothing they can do to surprise me.” Rimmer replied casually. “I’ve seen just about everything over the years I’ve been traveling with them.”

Rimmer led the way out of the medi-bay, with Kryten trailing close behind him. They followed the path down a short hallway and then took a left, and proceeded to _Starbug’s_ cockpit. When Rimmer opened the cockpit doors, he could hear Lister and Cat making some kind of commotion. They looked like they were squabbling, chattering back and forth like a couple of school children that both wanted to play with the same jump rope.

The Cat had a hold of Lister’s shirt collar, and was looking agitated.

The two of them turned their heads when Kryten and Rimmer entered the room.

“Sirs, what is going on?” Kryten asked them, alarmed.

Rimmer placed his hands on his hips and shook his head at the both of them in disapproval. 

“Unbelievable. I step out of here for four hours and you two have forgotten how to act civilized.” Rimmer said with disdain. “I suppose I should expect it from a feral cat and a man who was once mistaken for an escaped zoo animal.”

“I don’t know why he’s grabbing me, I swear!’ Lister exclaimed.

“Don’t act like we’re cool now! You pretended you couldn’t see me!” The Cat argued. “I even tried to tilt the ship a little and you still ignored me!”

“You must’ve gotten at the catnip again.” Lister said. “I’ve been seeing and hearing you this whole time!”

“Sirs, I think there’s a perfectly logical explanation for this.” said Kryten. “If we just sit down and put our heads together, I’m sure we’ll come up with something.”

“About the only thing we’ll get out of them is an argument.” Rimmer remarked, as he sat down in his own chair.

“It sounds like _you’re_ feeling okay now, Rimmer.” Lister commented.

“That’s right, Listy, I’m in top form!” Rimmer exclaimed, grinning. “I told you not to get too comfortable, didn’t I?”

“Oh, that’s _terrific_.” said the Cat sarcastically. “And here I was thinking we’d get at least another hour without him.”

“Sirs, I think we need to refocus on the subject at hand.” said Kryten. “Mister Cat, why don’t you explain to us what happened?”

The Cat went back to his own chair and placed his hands on the steering wheel. 

“I was up here driving, and minding my own business.” said the Cat. “Then all of a sudden, this weird wave went through us.”

As the Cat said this, a pulse went through _Starbug’s_ cockpit. There was a brief twinge within all four crew members. It only lasted for a second, but they definitely felt it.

“Was it something like that?” asked Rimmer.

“Yeah, exactly! And then things really started to get freaky.” The Cat explained. “Dormouse Cheeks shoved me off my own chair because he thought _Starbug_ was driving itself!”

“But I can see and hear everybody now.” said Lister. “Nothing’s changed.”

“We shouldn’t let our guard down. This wave may have more than one effect.” Kryten suggested.

“We need to keep our eyes open for anything unusual,” said Rimmer.

The four of them peered around the cockpit, and it looked as ordinary as ever. All the controls looked the same, sending and receiving numbers at their usual clockwork speed. The windows were intact, without a single crack or chip against them. The only sound that could be heard was the low hum of _Starbug’s_ engine, as it continued its solitary journey through deep space.

Maybe the Cat’s disappearance had been a freak occurrence. While Rimmer was fully aware that this wave gave him a prickling feeling of Deja vu, he decided to ignore it. He was hoping that nothing would come of it. Between Kryten’s fussing, his recent nightmare, and his future memories that felt distant and close all at once, Rimmer was really having one of those days. He had little patience left for nonsense.

All he wanted was a mundane afternoon and a dull evening, followed by a boring, yet peaceful night in Holo sleep.

For a brief moment, Rimmer had hope that his day would go on without any more unwelcome excitement. But then Lister turned to face him, and dropped his mouth open in surprise.

“Rimmer, your H is gone!” Lister exclaimed, pointing at him with a shaky finger.

“Lister, don’t be a gimboid!” Rimmer replied. “I’m still a hologram! I don’t feel any more alive than I did two minutes ago!”

“I’m not kidding, man!” exclaimed Lister. “Just reach up and touch your forehead if you don’t believe me!”

Just to humor Lister, Rimmer reached up and felt where his H should be. He did not feel the letter’s cold metallic outline, but instead laid his hand on flat, warm skin. Rimmer let out a gasp in astonishment as he lowered his hand to his side.

“You’re right. It’s really gone and I’m still solid.” Rimmer said, dumbfounded. “What could this mean?”

“It means I’ve got to come up with some new names for you.” said the Cat. “Life will never be the same! Everyone knows ‘Goalpost Head’ was my favorite!”

“Before we jump to any conclusions, we need to remember what Mister Cat told us.” Kryten said. “He described the wave as something that altered the perception of reality, and for a moment, Mister Lister was unable to see him.”

“So this could all be another mind trick then.” said Lister.

“Exactly,” Kryten confirmed, nodding.

“Well, Kryten, that’s certainly one explanation,” said Rimmer. “But have you stopped to consider a second option?”

“What do you mean by ‘second option’, Rimmer?” Lister asked him suspiciously.

“I could actually be human again!” Rimmer exclaimed happily. “I could be seeing you with my real eyes and hearing you with my actual ears! I think I’m even breathing in the air!”

“I don’t see how that would be possible, sir!” Kryten exclaimed. “There is no record of any hologram ever returning to a human form. Your hard light drive is as close as you’ll get to the living experience.”

“Of course there’d be no records, Kryten.” said Rimmer hopefully. “I’d be the first one this has happened to. I’d be a trailblazer, a pioneer, first and best in my class among those who have risen from the dead!”

“You _really_ think you’ve sprang back to life again?” Lister asked him. “How?”

“I’ve got it all worked out, Lister.” said Rimmer, smirking. “The wave probably made the Cat vanish a few minutes because it wasn’t meant for living people.” 

“And just who would hide someone gorgeous like me behind an invisible curtain just so they could give _you_ a body?” The Cat asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the very idea.

“Aliens!” Rimmer exclaimed with certainty.

“Rimmer, for smeg’s sake.” Lister said, covering his entire face with his palm and shaking his head. “We’ve been over this. There are no such things as extraterrestrials! You don’t get little green men on flying saucers, picking up cows and making crop circles.”

“And if they met you, they’d probably go right back where they came from!” The Cat commented.

“You’re both wrong and I know it!” exclaimed Rimmer. “Tell me, why would they give me back my human form if they didn’t like me?”

“Maybe they want to eat you.” said the Cat. “And they need you to be nice and meaty first.”

“I think you’re just jealous.” said Rimmer. “I turned your negative experience into a positive one for me, and you just can’t stand it.” He added smugly.

“If these aliens really exist, why don’t you prove it?” asked Lister. “I’m not buying this, not by a long shot.”

“Fine, you want me to prove it? I will!” said Rimmer. “Open up the communication channels. Broadcast in every frequency, in every known language, including Swahili.” 

Lister punched in a few buttons on his console, and the microphone went live.

“Attention, great Alien Overlords! This is Acting Senior Officer Arnold J. Rimmer of the _JMC_ ship _Starbug_.” Rimmer began. “I want to thank you for this wonderful gift of a human body, and I am prepared to give you anything you want from our cargo bay as repayment.”

Rimmer awaited their reply. By now his mind was speeding way past the realm of logic and reasoning, and heading into pipe dream territory. He didn’t care if it made sense or not, his greatest wish finally came true! After all this time he spent waiting, he was really alive! He no longer needed circuits, computer chips, or a hard drive. Rimmer was _organic_ again, and he could hardly contain his excitement!

Within ten seconds, another wave curved the scenery around the cockpit. Its force sent Rimmer off his chair and onto the floor, and it brought Lister, Cat and Kryten to their knees. Lister was the first to recover, bringing himself up by grabbing hold of one of the chairs. The Cat and Kryten soon steadied themselves, but Rimmer was still lying on the floor face down and unresponsive.

Lister rushed to Rimmer’s side, turning him over and cradling him in his arms. The metallic H somehow returned to his forehead, but that wasn’t important now. The more pressing matter was that he was unconscious, and seemed to be staying that way.

“Rimmer! Wake up, man, snap out of it!” Lister cried as he shook his form. “Say something!”

Rimmer opened his eyes slowly. The first thing that came into view was Lister’s concerned face. Kryten was close by, waving his hands in the way he always did when he was nervous about something. Off the corner of his eye, Rimmer could just make out the Cat putting away a permanent marker, and giving a toothy, not so innocent smile.

“Hey look, he’s waking up!” the Cat exclaimed. “Welcome back, Non-Bud!”

“What happened to me?” Rimmer asked.

“I have some bad news, Mister Rimmer, sir.” said Kryten. “You see, another wave hit us and knocked you out cold! But that’s not all.” 

“Don’t tell him _yet_ , Kryten!” said Lister sharply. 

He glared at the droid for a moment, and then turned his attention back to Rimmer.

“Are you okay?” Lister asked softly. “Do you think you can stand up?”

“I can manage.” Rimmer replied. He pushed himself up from where Lister held him, and slowly got to his feet. “Now what else was Kryten going to say?” he asked suspiciously.

“It’s really good news, Alphabet Head!” the Cat exclaimed happily. He pulled out his hand mirror and let Rimmer take a look at his face with it. “Your H is back!”

Rimmer glanced at his reflection in the Cat’s mirror. It was the same old face he was used to seeing. There was his unmanageable brown hair, which he somehow parted halfway decent, his sharp brown eyes, and a nose that was always too big for his liking. And then of course, there was the shiny capital H on his forehead.

The Cat was right, and Rimmer wished he wasn’t.

“I’m a hologram again. I didn’t even get to be alive for ten minutes!” Rimmer exclaimed, distraught. He pointed an accusing finger at the Cat. “You told me this was good news, you liar!”

“It’s good for me.” said the Cat. “It means I get to have more fish for myself.”

“You’re a truly heartless creature, aren’t you?!” Rimmer cried. “I’ve just died _again_ and all you can think about is your smegging Trout a la Crème!”

“Mister Rimmer, I’m not sure if this will be any consolation to you.” Kryten said, speaking calmly. “But I don’t think you ever had your humanity back. Every time we’ve hit one of these waves, it’s caused our senses to lie to us.”

“Something’s wrong. I think we might have fallen into a trap that’s screwing with our heads.” said Lister.

“If that’s the case, I think we all know the sensible option, don’t we?” said Rimmer. “I say we turn around and leave this place behind with a vapor trail. Now who’s with me?”

“I’m with you, Arnold.” said a monotone male voice.

“Who said that?” asked Lister, glancing around.

The voice didn’t sound like it belonged to any of the four crew members who were huddled together in _Starbug’s_ front end. And yet, Rimmer couldn’t help but feel like he knew the speaker from somewhere. Who even used his first name anymore? He couldn’t even count the people who called him “Arnold” on one hand.

“Who’s there?” asked Rimmer. “Are you real, or are we hallucinating again?”

“Why, I’m a touch offended.” the voice answered. “Is that a way to greet an old reliable acquaintance?”

Over _Starbug’s_ communication screen, a face appeared. It looked like a middle-aged man who was nearly bald, except for the small bit of hair that had yet to be consumed by his hairline. Rimmer knew this face. It was the first one he saw when he was resurrected as a hologram.

“Holly?” Rimmer said, gazing at the computer screen in wonder.

“That’s right, I’m the one and only.” replied Holly.

“Cheers, Hol! It’s so good to see you!” Lister exclaimed joyfully. “Where have you been?”

“It’s a shame you lost your other face.” the Cat commented. “That was your best feature!”

“I’ve been tailing you all this time in deep space,” said Holly.

“That’s rather ironic, Holly. All this time, we thought we were pursuing you!” Kryten exclaimed.

“ _Starbug’s_ a funny little ship. They were manufactured on a Saturday evening by the Space Corps engineers after a night of bourbon and one pence poker.” said Holly. “The sensors were never quite right. This whole time you’ve been flying ahead of me, but at least the distance checks out.”

“So if we hit the reverse thrusters, we should meet up with you and _Red Dwarf_?” asked Lister.

“That’s right, Dave,” said Holly. “As a bonus you’ll also get out of that trap you’ve got yourselves into. It’s a real doozy. It’s worse than a circular maze.”

“Cat, take the wheel and hit the reverse!” Lister exclaimed. “Let’s get back to the Dwarf. Then we can scan this place and see what’s behind this weird mind fog.”

“Wait.” Rimmer commanded. He leaned in close, just within Lister, Kryten and the Cat’s earshot. “That might not be Holly. Before we do anything, we need to ask a few questions.”

“Of course. Good thinking, sir.” said Kryten. “We have to make sure he’s the real deal.”

“What should we ask?” said the Cat. “Who shines the bald spot on his head?”

“We’ll start with the basics and go from there.” said Lister. 

They pulled away from their group huddle, and Lister took a look at the image of Holly’s face.

“Say, Hol. What’s your IQ again?” Lister asked him innocently.

“The last I checked, it’s still six thousand.” replied Holly. 

“And what sort of computer are you, Holly?” asked Kryten.

“I’m a tenth generation AI, wired for millions of different functions. Unlike the ninth generation, I was given a face to go with my voice box.” said the computer.

“This one’s really gonna stump you.” said the Cat. “When wearing a blue suit, is it better to go with gold or silver accessories?”

“It’s got to be silver, all the way.” said Holly. “That’s a stellar look if you ask me.”

“He really is smart!” the Cat exclaimed.

“Let’s ask him something a little harder, shall we?” said Rimmer. “Holly, what was the name of my paternal grandfather? Which war did he fight in, and which prestigious medal did he earn while serving the Space Corps?”

“Your paternal grandfather, according to my records, was Sir Arthur Gene Rimmer, First Technician.” said Holly. 

“What?! You must be mistaken!” Rimmer argued. “My grandfather was named Sir Arthur _Geoffrey_ Rimmer. He was no _technician_ ; he was a Lieutenant First Class!”

“Arthur G. Rimmer has always held the rank of First Technician. He fought in the Great Tech Revolt of the 22nd Century. The dispensing machines on board a _JMC_ merchant ship staged a mutiny. They wreaked havoc with flying soda cans, hot soup and the stink bomb of microwaved fish.” said Holly. “This battle would later go down in history as the Space Corps’ most shameful defeat, with the greatest casualty being dignity.”

“That’s absolute slander, I tell you! My grandfather was never involved in that ridiculous machine rebellion! He fought valiantly in the trenches of Europa!” Rimmer exclaimed angrily. “He earned the Bronze Star of Valor when he saved the Prince of Wales. Grandfather carried him fifteen kilometers across no-man’s land to a medical tent. It was legendary! There was a stage play written about it!”

“That is at least partially true. He did earn the Bronze Star of Valor,” said Holly. “When they were cornered by a drink dispenser, Arthur leaped in front of the Prince of Wales and took a cherry soda can to the head, suffering a severe concussion. He was later knighted for his service to the United Kingdom after the merchant ship returned to Earth.”

“There’s no way this is true!” said Rimmer. “It’s all a great big lie! Your data must have been corrupted since the last time we’ve seen you.”

“Holly’s story sounds right to me. You’re a real chip off an even older block, Rimmer.” said Lister. “Your granddad’s just like you. He’s got the same exaggerated stories, the inflated ego, even lying about his middle name. I wonder if you look alike. You never showed me his pictures.” 

“I don’t believe this!” Rimmer shouted. “Earlier, you had doubts as to whether I really came back to life. And now you’re willing to believe my grandfather was a common wrench turner instead of the brave officer I looked up to? This could all be another illusion to trick us!”

“How about we make the next question a little less personal, Holly?” Lister said, ignoring Rimmer as his temper continued to flare. “Tell me fifty digits in that number Pi. I start to lose track after that.”

“Just fifty decimal places, and you’ll believe I’m real, Dave?” asked Holly.

“I think you’ll pass the test after that.” said Lister.

“Alright, then. That’s a piece of cake for me, since I have an IQ of six thousand.” Holly answered him. “The number Pi, down to fifty decimal places is three point one, four, one, five, nine, two…”

It seemed like Holly was going to list all the digits. He became absorbed in the task, and Lister kept note of how many decimal places the computer listed off. Every number that Holly said out loud appeared on the screen, and the crew of four had their eyes on it. When Holly made it past the fifteenth decimal place, some of the doubts were starting to vanish. Surely, if he could even make it halfway, that would prove he was the true Holly, who still had more than enough sharpness to steer them back home to their mother ship.

But just as he reached decimal place number twenty, another curved wave passed through _Starbug’s_ interior. Holly’s face suddenly vanished and left behind a black screen. Mere seconds after Holly’s voice left radio and video silence, every single light in the ship went dark. 

“What’s going on?! I think I’m blind!” The Cat said, panicking.

“It’s not just you, I can’t see either!” shouted Lister.

“Someone’s stepping on my foot!” Rimmer complained through the darkness. “Is that you, Lister?”

“Oh. Not sorry, Alphabet Head, but it’s me. I thought your shoe was the floor.” said the Cat. “They both look equally ugly.”

“Can it, tuna breath!” Rimmer exclaimed angrily.

“I think I’ve got a hold of the table.” Lister said. He was certainly holding something cold and solid, in any case.

“Mister Lister, your hand is on my back.” said Kryten.

“Is it? I can’t really notice.” Lister commented. “I don’t suppose you guys have any bright ideas.”

“We need to get a hold of the emergency torch,” Rimmer said. “It’s the only way any of us will be able to see in here!”

“Cat, can you sniff it out?” asked Lister. 

“You can count on me, Bud. I’ll find it in no time!” the Cat replied. “I think it’s _this_ way!”

There was some shuffling of feet as he Cat sped past Rimmer. He followed his sense of smell closely, but wasn’t paying too much attention to anything else. He bumped into Lister’s side, almost sending him and Kryten falling over in a sort of human sized game of dominoes. The Cat continued onward, picking up all sorts of scents along the way. Just a foot in front of him was the scent of an empty _JMC_ curry container. The Cat took a step to the right and he heard the crunch of crushed aluminum, probably from one of Lister’s spent beer cans.

The crumbling noise spooked the Cat, causing him to arch himself upwards to make himself look big, while he took off for about three paces.

His clawed hands hit a wall. The Cat had stopped in just the right place too, as he took in the all familiar scent of metal and plastic. He felt ahead, and sure enough, the Cat had his hand on a tube with two round ends.

“I’ve got it!” the Cat exclaimed.

“Good, now turn it on!” Lister shouted in the gloom.

The Cat pressed the button in the middle of the tube, and a beam of light illuminated the otherwise pitch black room. 

“Look, we can see each other now!” said the Cat, a little too excited as he pointed the torch at the others.

Rimmer, Kryten and Lister drew in closer to the light. Rimmer made it a point to get right in the middle of the other three, just in case something even worse went wrong. Of course, when it came to disasters in deep space, losing all the lights in your cockpit was just about on the top of the list. However, if there was anything Rimmer knew from his travels, it was that shoes always dropped in pairs. Complete darkness could be step one of a series of events that would lead to a swift, untimely demise if they weren’t careful.

“Right, we have some light now, and we’ve found each other,” said Rimmer. “We also have no more excuses to step on each other’s toes.” he added, glancing at the Cat when he said the next bit. “What should we do now?”

“The power’s gone dead. We’ll be sitting ducks unless we can get it up and running again.” said Lister.

“Something doesn’t smell right.” said the Cat suspiciously. “If our power’s out, how come I can still sniff the fumes burning in the exhaust?”

“How can you smell that?!” asked Rimmer. “We’re not in the engine room!”

“If you had a nose like mine, you could pick up Gerbil Cheeks’ socks in a completely different solar system!” said the Cat. “I know what I smell, and our fuel’s still burning.”

“I think Mister Cat might be onto something.” said Kryten.

“I am?” said the Cat hopefully.

“If we were truly out of power, you and Mister Lister would have run out of oxygen twenty minutes ago.” Kryten explained.

“Wouldn’t Rimmer have switched off too?” Lister asked. “He’s still here in hard light form.”

“Well, if our power is still on, we may have a chance of getting out of this mess,” said Rimmer. “Cat, take the driver’s seat.”

The Cat handed the torch off to Lister, and got comfortable in his seat. He gripped the steering wheel with two hands and looked back.

“I’m here! Now what should I do?” said the Cat.

“Put us in reverse, slowly.” Rimmer told him. “And if the lights happen to come back on, hit the brakes and don’t move an inch.”

“What’s the point of backing up?” the Cat asked him. “What if we run right into a speeding meteor? I’ll never hear the last of it!”

“Just trust me!” Rimmer exclaimed. “I know what I’m doing! That might be hard for you to believe, but you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

“Cat, just do it, man.” Lister told him. “Anything has to be better than sitting in the dark like this!”

The Cat pressed a yellow button on his console and looked back at the others.

“Well, here goes nothing!” he exclaimed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the idea of including different unreality pockets in this story than the ones that appeared in the show. This was so I could not repeat what we already saw on screen, as well as showing the "butterfly effect" of Rimmer resetting the timeline. In the next chapter, we see how well his suggestion to Cat plays out, among other things.


	3. The Turnaround

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When history appears as if it wants to repeat itself, Rimmer takes matters into his own hands.

The Cat hit the foot pedal that was just below the steering wheel and got _Starbug_ going in full reverse. He had a tight hold on both sides of the wheel, keeping it as steady as the old ship would allow him to. There was some minor turbulence as their backwards flight continued, causing both Rimmer and Lister to grab a hold of Kryten’s left and right shoulders.

After the Cat drove _Starbug_ for about five minutes in reverse, some of the blue lights on the steering wheel lit up. It wasn’t long before the other lights dotted the dark cockpit, bringing back all the normal levels of color, visibility and shapes in the room. The ceiling lights were the last to turn on. Rimmer, Lister, Kryten and the Cat shielded their eyes at first, and then took a good look around once their vision adjusted to the changes. Cat brought his foot down hard on the brake pedal, and stopped them in place.

“Extraordinary. Everything appears to have gone back to normal.” said Kryten. 

“Do you think we’re out of it now?” asked Lister cautiously. “I don’t know about you guys, but I can’t stand these smegging mirages.”

“I agree with Hamster Face. This place is just too weird!” said the Cat. 

Kryten took his seat at his own chair, taking a look at the scanners just in front of his eyes.

“To use a human expression, I don’t think we’re out of the woods yet, sirs,” Kryten explained. “We’re surrounded on all sides by some sort of storm clouds. We’ve backed into a neutral zone where they cannot touch us for now.”

“We’ve been through electromagnetic storms before, Kryten. They don’t cause us to believe things that obviously aren’t true.” said Rimmer. “This is something different, and probably more dangerous than that.”

Rimmer went to look on Kryten’s screen, with the others following close behind. If this was a storm, it wasn’t a typical one. It had a nearly perfect circular pattern around _Starbug_ , which was odd enough. Upon taking a closer look at the clouds, Rimmer noticed they had an almost perfect spherical shape. They were packed close together, leaving little gaps in between like the one they were nested in now.

Rimmer knew why he felt the sense of Deja vu earlier. This is how it all began. Before the time machine, the battle and his last shot, there was one event that set the others all in motion.

“I think these so-called clouds are unreality pockets.” Rimmer said out loud.

“So what are they?” asked the Cat.

“If Mister Rimmer’s suggestion is correct, they are pockets of space-time where the rules of our known reality no longer apply.” explained Kryten. “They are meant to confuse and disorient intruders.”

The Cat turned to Lister. “So what are they?” he asked again.

“They’re little bubbles that change stuff around when we hit them,” said Lister.

“Oh, so they’re like big fish bowls that play with our heads! Why didn’t you say?” the Cat answered.

As the four of them looked at Kryten’s scanner, Lister pointed to a white dot that was just within range.

“These unreality bubbles aren’t the only thing ahead of us.” Lister said. “It looks like there’s some kind of derelict out there.”

“These pockets seem to surround the derelict on all sides,” said Kryten. “They appear to be laid out like some kind of castle moat, or maybe even a minefield.”

“The function of both those things is to keep people _out_ , Kryten.” said Rimmer. “And I say we should heed their warnings, and exit while we still can.”

“This other ship might be worth taking a look at,” said Lister. “No one would go through the trouble of setting up a trap unless they had something important to hide.”

“Whoa, hold on! Do you think I _want_ to go back in there?” asked the Cat. “There’s no way that’s happening, Bud! We saw how bad these fish bowls could be. The next one could make us think we all disappeared along with our ride!”

“There is no way for us to advance or backtrack without hitting more pockets. But if we turn back, we will definitely experience less of them.” said Kryten. “It’s still a tough call.”

“If only there was a way we could avoid them somehow,” said Lister. “They’re packed closer together than sardines in a tin can.”

“Well, I can’t think of any ideas, so I suggest we take the path of least resistance,” said Rimmer.

“Actually, there is one way we might be able to evade them.” said Kryten. His mechanical eyes lit up in wonder as the idea came to mind.

“Forget it, Kryten.” Rimmer said, trying to interrupt. “We’ve already established it’s impossible!”

The android ignored him and continued on. “Mister Lister, you and Mister Cat could go into the stasis chambers. While you’re in there, time will not be able to pass through. We can cruise through reality, or even unreality completely unhindered while Mister Rimmer and I power down and hook up to our recharging stations. It’s fool-proof!”

“And how are we supposed to know when it’s time to come out of suspended animation?” Rimmer asked him. “We could be drifting for days! What if a rogue simulant, or a GELF or some other deranged creature boards our ship when we’re asleep? We’ll be completely defenseless! We’ll either become food or sick prizes for them to trade among themselves before we even open our eyes.”

“Don’t get your wires in a twist, man, I think I’ve got it figured out,” said Lister. “First, Cat will put the Bug on autopilot towards that derelict.”

“And then what?” asked Rimmer.

“We’ll head to the stasis booths and recharge stations.” Lister replied. “We can activate the timers that will wake us up once we’ve arrived. From there, we check out what’s inside.”

“That’s a great plan, Bud.” said the Cat. “I was just thinking about how much I wanted a nap.”

“I think we could all use a bit of rest and relaxation, in any case.” said Kryten. “And if we find anything beneficial to us on that ship, it would be a true boost in morale!”

“And what if we don’t find any sort of hidden treasure?” asked Rimmer. “Whatever’s behind this wall of unreality pockets could very well destroy us all!”

“You never look on the bright side of things, do you Rimmer? It’s always got to be gloom and doom with you!” Lister replied, growing frustrated with him. “Even if we _do_ find trouble, I have instincts. I’ll find a way out.”

“Those sound like famous last words, Listy.” Rimmer commented.

“They’re a lot better than yours.” Lister retaliated. 

“Why, you!” Rimmer exclaimed hotly. “You take that back, Lister!”

“I’ll think about it.” Lister replied, smirking. “I’ll sleep on it, actually.” he added. 

Lister turned away from Rimmer and patted the Cat a couple of times on the back. “Come on, Cat, we better get going.”

“Right on, Bud!” the Cat exclaimed. He pressed three buttons to plot _Starbug’s_ course, and then one more to engage the autopilot. “We’re on our way there!” he said.

“It looks like we’ll reach the derelict in about seven days’ time,” said Kryten. “But we’ll only have fifteen minutes before we come out of the neutral zone into the unreality minefield. We’d better hurry.”

Rimmer wanted to say something as he followed into a hallway leading to the stasis chambers. He wanted to raise one last objection to their plans, but the words died on his tongue. Maybe he expected this hazardous sort of optimism from Lister and the Cat, but did Kryten have to go along with their plans? Kryten _knew_ Rimmer’s secret, so why would he be willing to take this risk? Didn’t he understand what was about to happen?

Lister, Kryten, and the Cat might have been fine now, but their lives were hanging in the balance. And if he wanted to tip the scales back in the crew’s favor, Rimmer would have to do something drastic. And whatever that thing was, he would have to come up with a plan in less than fifteen minutes. He was sure that once they found the time drive, that all would be lost.

The Cat opened his stasis booth first.

“I’m off for a seven day snooze!” he said happily. “And when I get out, I’m having that salmon I’ve been saving.” 

After pressing a few numbers to set a seven day timer, the Cat stepped into the stasis booth, and the door closed. It froze his expression in place. He was grinning like a fool at the idea of having something delicious when he woke up.

Lister punched in the numbers on his booth next. 

“I’m gonna have seven days’ rest without hearing any of your tapes, Rimmer.” Lister commented. “I’ve heard so much Esperanto that I’ve started to dream it up.”

“And I’ll finally get to rest an entire week without hearing a single chord from your guitar,” said Rimmer. “It’s a shame I have to spend my days on that cold steel recharging dock instead of having the old bottom bunk. I would’ve enjoyed the peace and quiet.”

“Well, Rimmer, you can’t always get everything you want.” said Lister. “But maybe at the end of this week, we’ll find something we need.”

Lister stepped into the stasis booth. To Rimmer’s surprise, Lister pulled off a mock version of the half-Rimmer salute.

“See ya in seven days, Rimmer.” said Lister.

Rimmer couldn’t help but return the salute. He also had to do with a half-Rimmer, as there was little time to pull off a full salute before they would be out in unreality territory once again.

“See you in one week, Lister.” Rimmer told him.

And shortly after, the door closed in on Third Technician Lister, frozen in space-time with a smirk on his face, and locked in the last part of his salute.

The recharging room was only one door down from the stasis booths. On the way there, more thoughts raced through Rimmer’s mind as he followed closely behind Kryten. He wanted to warn Kryten about what was to come, but how was he supposed to do that? The android doubted him until getting the printouts from the scanner in the medi-bay, and even then, Kryten had offered Rimmer little help in regards to his memories. 

Rimmer wanted to shift the blame outwards. He wanted to think that Kryten was just a sanitation droid, only fit for cleaning bathrooms and folding sheets. Rimmer wanted to scoff at the very idea of Kryten doing anything that didn’t involve a vacuum or a feather duster. And he wanted to laugh at the thought of Kryten doing something important, like redirecting the course of history itself.

But when it came to the weight of his responsibility, Rimmer couldn’t give it to anyone else. It was _his_ choice to keep the memory. He chose to face it, and couldn't back out now. 

Kryten was innocent in all this. He didn’t have the knowledge Rimmer possessed. It’s not like Kryten could really see what the future had in store for all of them. Telling him now would just make him get all sentimental, Rimmer decided, and then he’d just get in the way. It was probably best if Rimmer just allowed his android crew member to recharge without incident.

“I suppose it is my turn to rest now, Mister Rimmer, sir.” Kryten said. 

Kryten’s words snapped Rimmer out of his deep thoughts, and he gave a simple nod to the android in reply. 

“Indeed it is, Kryten. Being idle probably bothers you. You have to stand here with a cable stuck in a place where the sun don’t shine, all while seven days of dust builds up in the sleeping quarters. It must drive you mad.”

“Actually, none of that bothers me at all, Mister Rimmer, sir. A good recharge is sometimes what I need to power through an extra day of laundry.” Kryten replied as he went over to a numbered panel by his recharging dock, punching in the correct time. “And as for the location of my charging port, it could have been worse. The 3500 series mechanoids had their charging ports and attachment ports reversed. Now can you imagine a _rear vacuum cleaner_ , sir? That is the height of embarrassment!”

“Yes, that sounds terrible, Kryten. But thank you for the mental image, all the same.” Rimmer replied sarcastically. He felt like he needed to put his head next to a magnet, in hopes that it would erase the pictures that just came up from his cursed imagination.

“Mister Rimmer, sir, our time is growing short. We only have four and a half minutes before we enter unreality again.” Kryten reminded him. He took a step backwards into his recharging dock, and picked up a thick, black cable that had a blue, three pinned adapter at the end. “Could you turn around for just a few seconds, sir? I’d like a little privacy. I’m sure you understand.”

“Kryten, wait! Before you do that, something important I have to tell you.” said Rimmer quickly. 

“You need to make it extremely brief, sir!” Kryten replied, just as urgently.

“Earlier, you listened to me and believed my story, even though it sounded like a plot twist in a bad soap opera,” said Rimmer. 

“Well, you were in Panic Mode, sir.” said Kryten. “That was just the right thing to do.”

“That is why I’m commending you, Kryten, for doing the right thing at the right time,” said Rimmer. “And if for some reason, we don’t make it out of this; I’ll make sure there’s a sanitation supply ship named after you.”

Kryten’s mechanical eyes lit up in awe. “Do you really mean that, sir? When my runtime ends, there will really be a supply vessel bearing my name? And it will have all the liquid soap, hand towels, toilet rolls and disinfecting wipes that make the universe sparkle? That’s the highest honor for any mechanoid! It’s almost like the human title of Sainthood!”

“It’ll be etched into my hologrammatic will, you have my word on it,” said Rimmer. 

“Mister Rimmer, sir, when I first met you, I thought you were a neurotic, cowardly, egotistical man with spine of an earthworm.” Kryten told him.

“Ah, you’ve changed your mind, have you?” said Rimmer confidently.

“Not completely, sir.” Kryten replied. “But I will recognize that you have a generous side.”

“That’s fair enough, Kryten. I still recognize you as an arrogant, sarcastic, know-it-all android.” said Rimmer. “But every once in a while, you manage to be genuinely helpful.”

“Have a good recharge, Mister Rimmer, sir.” said Kryten.

“Likewise,” Rimmer replied.

Without another word, Rimmer turned away from Kryten. He closed his eyes out of principle. Looking at Kryten plug himself in would have been like walking in on him in a locker room if he was human. Rimmer couldn’t decide which image would be worse. In the end he decided both pictures were equally bad in their own ways, and he could go the rest of his hologrammatic life without seeing either one.

Rimmer opened his eyes and turned back around when he heard a digital chime. Kryten’s recharge and deep sleep had begun. The droid entered this state a few times during their journey, but Rimmer never fully got used to it. It was bad enough that Kryten stood rigid and stiff, like a life size action figure waiting for someone to move his arms and legs. But then his eyes remained open and glowed with a silvery light, to indicate that his charging cable was fulfilling its intended purpose. 

While there were plenty of scientific explanations for this, Rimmer still found it unnerving. It was all well and good for Kryten to restore his energy once in a while, but did he have to look like a possessed doll in a horror movie? Someday, Rimmer would come up with a way to at least fix the glowing problem. Perhaps he could rewire Kryten’s eyes, or failing that, he could just find a very dark pair of shades to mask the glow.

That of course, would have to come later. Right now, it was Rimmer’s turn to enter his own state of deep sleep. He set the seven-day wake-up timer, just the same as the others. Then he laid down back first on his own recharging station, which greatly resembled a camping bed. There was a metallic indent on the upper middle part of the bed, no bigger than a regular sized cup holder.

Rimmer always thought his own recharge process was a lot more practical, and definitely a lot less terrifying than Kryten’s. He would get himself comfortable as possible, while he booted down his outer programs. He would first go into soft light, and his uniform would fade from blue to red. Not long after that, his image would disappear completely into his light bee, which would then drop into the small, metallic circle. From there, his light bee would receive energy on both ends, and he would emerge when it was fully charged, or when the timer said so.

While he was waiting for his transformation into soft light, Rimmer was supposed to think calming thoughts. That made the process easier on him, and made Rimmer less afraid when it came to gradually losing his five senses. Right now, it was difficult for him to think of anything that didn’t riddle his mind with stress or anxiety. And as he lay on the metal cot, his mind racing, a single question came to the forefront of Rimmer’s consciousness.

What was he going to do?

None of Rimmer’s strategy books gave instructions on how to avoid a disaster of this nature. No training videos were made about the hazards of time machines and what safety gear you should wear to prevent injury or death. There wasn’t a single diagram, formula or clever flight maneuver that could be applied here. Even if there was, Rimmer probably couldn’t remember them. He had a tendency to get these things wrong.

When all else failed, Rimmer usually turned to the great leaders of the past to inspire him. They gave speeches that could make a half-tired battalion charge across the valley of death. They could hold out against fiery sieges for months, or even years on end, all while making their enemies sorry for ever striking them in the first place. And most of all, they could beat overwhelming odds by working with what they had.

What did _Rimmer_ have?

He had the images that were encoded deep within his light bee, living reminders of the calamity that was just on the horizon. And just the opposite side of that, Rimmer had the desire to steer his crew down the road left untraveled. It would mean going into uncharted territory, and speeding headlong into the unknown, which normally scared him. But an unknown future where their voyage continued was far better than the alternative.

Rimmer had to do everything in his power to give them another chance.

Perhaps he could bring a bazookoid along, just in case. And then when they reached the time drive, Rimmer’s trigger finger could accidentally slip, and blow the cursed machine to smithereens. Yes, maybe that would work.

Or maybe it was a terrible idea. The bazookoid blast could make the derelict give way, and it would bury them all in a rain of metal and debris. The shrapnel from the destroyed drive could pierce them, striking them all out of existence. Getting close enough to see it was a death sentence. If only he could have persuaded them to keep their distance!

It was a little late for that, of course. They were already on their way to the derelict. Rimmer hadn’t exactly been convincing when he was trying to warn them. It might have been past the point of no return.

It would all happen again. Could Rimmer live through the events a second time around? Would he be strong enough to endure a repeat of a battle they couldn’t win?

He would _have_ to relive it. There was nothing else he could do. Feeling resigned to his fate, Rimmer waited for his transformation into soft light, and closed his eyes.

And then mere seconds later, he opened them up again.

Fury rose up inside Rimmer, and spread from his light bee’s internal circuits to every part of his hologrammatic body. Bypassing his natural cowardice, great confusion and crippling doubts, his anger burned brightly. And like a wildfire, it spread fast. Rimmer was mad at everyone and everything all at once.

He hated life, and many of the hands it dealt him. Rimmer loathed the time drive, and his own weakness that allowed him to become the fat, calloused old man in the orange suit. He cursed his crew mates for their reckless optimism, which almost always had them flirting with death. But last, and certainly not least, Rimmer was angry at himself for almost giving up.

He couldn’t surrender now. This fight was too important.

Rimmer held both his hands into tight fists, and willed himself to get up off the metal cot mere seconds before his soft light boot down would have been completed. Rimmer’s fury gave him a rush of energy he shouldn’t have possessed for a hologram that interrupted his own recharge process. But he was running on something more than battery power or electric charges. It was like a hologrammatic adrenaline rush, giving him the urge to move, and keep moving.

Rimmer’s power walk soon became a run. At first he wasn’t sure why he was running, or more importantly, where. Little patches of rational thought gave him a direction to head towards. Something told him to go to the front of _Starbug_ , and he didn’t question it.

Once Rimmer reached the empty cockpit, some of his fury had burned out, and it was replaced with the much cooler sense of logic and reasoning. He took stock of what was happening. The ship was still on autopilot. And he had impeccable timing: as _Starbug_ had drifted into another neutral zone between the unreality pockets.

Rimmer quickly took the drivers’ seat, and slammed his foot on the brake pedal.

 _Starbug_ stopped right away, hovering in place.

Rimmer looked over all the controls at the driver’s seat. There were so many buttons, levers and switches! It’s a wonder the Cat actually knew which ones to press at any given time. Thankfully, the autopilot button was clearly labeled and easy to find. Rimmer pressed it once to deactivate it, canceling the ship’s current course.

He took a look at the map of deep space, trying to find another place for them to drift, preferably as far away from the derelict as possible.

It was then that Rimmer saw something that would flip this entire situation upside down.

Although it was on the edge of the map, he could clearly make out a red dot on the far left. He could just make out the white letters on the screen that identified it. 

They read: 

_JMC Mining Ship  
_ _Red Dwarf_

Rimmer could have cheered, if he was in a better mood. But he managed a true smile all the same. This little red light was like the hope that was left in Pandora’s Box after all the evil and strife had been unleashed in the living world. It was a lighthouse in a choppy storm, a candle in a pitch black room.

Rimmer tilted the steering wheel so that the ship would be facing the right direction to pursue _Red Dwarf_ once more. He set the course on the map, drawing a line towards the red dot, avoiding as many obstacles as possible. Once he had the path drawn out, Rimmer pressed the button to turn on the autopilot.

He wouldn’t just save Lister, Cat, and Kryten. Rimmer was about to bring them all closer to home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it. Another great Rimmer & Kryten moment! And with this chapter Rimmer begins his solo struggle to save the crew from the old course of history. I had to bring back Red Dwarf as a beacon of hope! That was missing from Series 7, I'm sure we all agree.


	4. As the World Falls Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rimmer enters a colorful scene in his dreams, where he has everything he wanted. But not everything is what it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is a reference to the David Bowie song, "As the World Falls Down." And a lot of it was inspired by the ballroom dance scene in the movie, "Labyrinth." This is the first real shipping moment I have between Rimmer and Lister, but I thought it turned out nicely. I hope you all enjoy.

More unreality pockets were a short distance away. Rimmer felt no need to experience them when there was no one else around to bring him back to his senses. He had done all he needed to do while he was awake, and now he could spend the rest of their trip in the calm, peaceful state of deep sleep.

Rimmer got out of the driver’s chair. He only took two steps before the room started spinning. His earlier rush had worn off, leaving a dizzy spell in its wake. He’d forgotten, a bit too late, that there were consequences to pulling away from his recharge dock in the middle of the process. There were even warnings about it in the user’s manual, with words like “dizziness,” “fatigue,” and “hallucinations.” Rimmer had disregarded them in his moment of desperation.

He just needed a brief sit down, that is what Rimmer told himself. He would just get back in his chair, collect himself, and make his way back into the recharging chamber. There might even be a bright side to all this, he decided. Maybe his senses were too dull for the unreality bubbles to change his perception, and he could take his time to recover and walk at a reasonable pace.

Rimmer was close to his chair, but he wouldn’t make it.

With just another half step, Rimmer’s knees buckled, and he blacked out. His hard light body dropped to the floor, curled in the fetal position. And as he lay there, completely unaware of the sights and sounds of _Starbug’s_ cockpit, Rimmer was starting to dream.

He was wearing his white formal uniform, and had just arrived at a grand ballroom. It was about as extravagant as a ballroom should be, with polished marble floors, crimson drapes between round, stone pillars, and a large crystal chandelier illuminating the entire room from above. A nearby band was playing a soft melody, and a collection of dancers moved almost perfect to the rhythm. All of the dancers wore masks, and they wore a variety of bright, shiny colors. It was like watching a kaleidoscope up close and off to the side.

It was incredible, and Rimmer couldn’t believe he was here. He’d imagined parties like this, but never thought he would be invited to one.

As he made his way to the dance floor, a masked man in maroon colored suit approached him. The man was wearing a golden cat mask, and it was bejeweled in red gems, which might have been genuine rubies.

“We’ve been waiting for you! You’re our guest of honor!” said the masked man. His voice had a certain feline quality to it that Rimmer knew anywhere. “Welcome to the party, Goalpost Head.”

“Cat, is that _you_?” Rimmer asked. He would know that nickname from anywhere, but didn’t think the Cat would ever be so cordial to him. 

The Cat made a show of bowing, spreading out his hands and fingers. “Who else were you expecting? This shindig was my idea! _Everybody’s_ here!”

The Cat gestured to the crowd of dancers. Now that Rimmer got a closer look at them, he was starting to recognize some of them even behind their masks. Slow-dancing off to the left were his brothers, Howard, John and Frank, each dancing with Rimmer’s sisters-in-law, who looked even more dazzling in their formal evening gowns. At the table just nearby were his parents, but something was different. They were actually laughing, sharing a drink and a joke. They were happy. They were pleasant. 

Other dancers with Cat masks stepped or shook their bodies to the rhythm. Most of them kept in their own company, but Rimmer could make out one of the masked lady cats in the midst of a tango with Todhunter. Captain Hollister was at another table, sharing cigars, stories and smiles with his mixed company of officers. Console Officer Kristine Kochanski was in a line dance with what looked like Yvone McGruder, and two of Lister’s old mates, Selby and Chen were joining in the reverie. 

Olaf Petersen was halfway between drunk and playing the part of waiter alongside Kryten, and four other droids all suited up in the best black tuxedos a butler could wear without being mistaken for party guests. They were serving small sandwiches with the crusts cut off, trays of cheese, cakes made from rich chocolate with strawberries, and of course, wine that went equally to the guests and the caterers themselves.

Just behind the line dancers was Lister, in a pair of black pants, shiny dress shoes, and a black vest, along with a blue jacket that shone between dark blue and a shade of turquoise. His hands were covered in a pair of classy white gloves, a difference from his usual fingerless leather he preferred. Lister turned his head to Rimmer, and their eyes met across the crowded room.

By Io, he almost looked _charming_ , and if Rimmer had lungs, the sight would have been breathtaking. He would normally dismiss such thoughts, but his usual pessimism couldn’t find a voice. He could do nothing but stand perfectly still. 

“How are all these people here?” Rimmer asked, staring ahead wide-eyed in awe. “Most of them are dead. It’s been the four of us for so many years.”

“It’s really simple, buddy. We found a magic box that let us bring people back to life and got ourselves an entourage!” said the Cat. “It’s gotten a lot less lonely around here.”

“I still don’t understand. Most of these people hated me before! Why didn’t the band stop playing as soon as I walked in?” said Rimmer. “Why didn’t my family look at me with complete and utter contempt? How on Io is everybody _so happy_?”

“You got a chance to understand your family instead of whining about them in your sleep.” said the Cat. “And the Captain and his buds all named us heroes for bringing them back to life! Kryten saved more androids from his old ship and then I finally found other people like me!” 

Right on cue, a lady cat in a black dress studded in sparkling diamonds jived her way towards the Cat, and caressed his arm.

“Let’s light up the night, panther.” she said seductively. She made a playful growling noise as she scratched the air with her clawed hands. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Well. That’s my cue. It’s time for these feet to move!” The Cat exclaimed excitedly. He wrapped a playful arm around his dance partner’s waist, and gave Rimmer a toothy smile. “I’ll see you later, Grand Canyon Nostrils! Enjoy yourself!”

The Cat and his lady friend did the beginning of a waltz, and soon disappeared into the crowd. While the two of them twirled away, the elegant, masked Lister stepped through two pairs of dancers. He reached his hand out, offering to dance. And maybe because it was a dream, Rimmer accepted without question. 

Lister held on to Rimmer’s hands, lacing their fingers together. He held one arm outward, while resting the other at their hips, leading Rimmer into a slow spinning motion. Rimmer should have questioned how Lister became so refined, so much like a perfect gentleman. He should wondered where Lister learned the steps and the motions to a ballroom dance, when his only mention of a “ball” involved goal nets, numbered jerseys and barbaric tackles at zero gravity. And he should have asked himself: when did they become so fond of each other, that they would share a moment of intimacy like this?

That’s what he should have thought, but none of it came to mind. He was too caught up in the fantasy. And as their steps continued, Rimmer was starting to forget that this was a dream at all. He had a feeling inside that he’d never felt before. It was warm and soothing. And for once in his second life, he felt like he had everything he could ever want.

“After everything we’ve gone through, we’re here at last, Rimmer. It’s just like a fairy tale,” said the gentleman Lister softly. “We’re gonna live happily ever after, and it’s all thanks to you.”

They completed another spin as the words and idea entered Rimmer’s mind. 

“I made all of this happen?” asked Rimmer. “How did I manage to do that?” He added, a smaller bit of doubt making its way in.

“It’s simple. You changed your mind, and led us back to the time drive.” Lister explained. “And soon enough, we had the things we’ve been longing for: food, drinks, music, and human companionship. I don’t need to toil away in the fields of some farm on Fiji, and you don’t have to take any more exams to become an officer. You and I are the saviors of the human race. From here on, we’re cruising on easy street.”

The words “time drive” entered Rimmer’s psyche and sent a cold shiver throughout his body. As he spun around the ballroom with the gentleman Lister, darkened images flashed across his eyes. One moment he was seeing his charming crew mate, and the next, he saw the brain in a jar, all that was left of Lister fifteen years after they found the time machine. He shook his head to dispel the image, to keep his eyes on his dance partner. But then another image came forward, of an explosion in the cockpit that knocked Lister to the ground for the last time. The fantasy was breaking apart piece by piece.

“No, this is all wrong,” said Rimmer, as reality was beginning to set in. Rimmer’s feet stopped and he lowered his and Lister’s hands, gently letting go. “If we use that machine, none of this will last.” 

“Of course it will last!” said Lister. “Everything’s gonna work out, Rimmer. It already has.”

Lister tried to take a hold Rimmer’s hand once more, but he pulled away. And as Rimmer tried to take a step backward, he ran into the Cat who had been standing there, holding two glasses of red wine. The Cat seemed unfazed and handed one of the wine glasses to Lister, while giving the other to Rimmer.

“Hamster Face is really on the nose. He said we had to use that funny little box the right way, and we did!” said the Cat. “Drink up, Captain Sadness. Live a little!”

Rimmer took the wine glass in his hand hesitantly, while Lister raised his glass towards him.

“A toast to us,” said Lister.

As if his arm was moving on its own, Rimmer raised his glass, even when he didn’t want to. It met Lister’s with a clicking noise, and then Lister took a swig of the red liquid inside. Rimmer caught a glance of his own face in the reflection on the glass, as well as a curved image of all the faces of the past behind him, all of them still dancing merrily. But in looking at that reflected image, it wasn’t their new entourage Rimmer noticed. It was the distinct _absence_ of someone that really caught his eye.

“Where is Holly?” Rimmer asked suspiciously, starting to back away from Lister and the Cat. “Tell me what happened to him and _Red Dwarf_!”

“Oh, that old baldy? We stopped tailing him ages ago.” said the Cat.

“You said it yourself, he was going computer senile.” said Lister, shrugging. “And the Dwarf was just a rusted clunker held together by spit and duct tape. It’s not like we _need_ them anymore. They’re obsolete.”

Rimmer regained control of his movements, backing further away from them. He lowered the wine glass, and shook his head in disbelief. No longer enamored by this Lister’s charisma, or the Cat’s inviting persona, he was beginning to reject the dream world and all it offered him. Their cold disregard for Holly disgusted him at his core.

“I can’t believe my ears! After all the time and effort we spent searching, you’ve just _abandoned_ our computer and mother ship?!” Rimmer said, growing more furious by the minute.

“Calm down, buddy. Don’t be so dramatic!” said the Cat. “They’re both just things. They’re not _alive_ like us.” 

“Computers and ships don’t have _feelings_. You don’t abandon a hair dryer when you leave it on the bathroom counter.” said Lister.

This couldn’t be the Lister he knew. This elegant, masked man couldn’t be the same Lister who sweet talked the candy dispensers while refilling their fun sized crunchy bars. He was far different than the Lister who asked Holly question after question to keep his processors sharp in the early days. This definitely wasn’t the same man who once stood up to the deranged Hudzen 10 to protect Kryten. This Lister was a fraud, a sham, a shiny imposter, and now Rimmer could see right through him.

“Holly might have been a bit computer senile, and most of the time, I hated his sense of humor. But he _is_ alive, and he’s the reason we’re all here!” said Rimmer. “He sealed the cargo hold so the Cat’s ancestors could live! He kept Lister’s stasis chamber running for three million years! And he resurrected me, a second technician, which is practically unheard of! He deserved so much better than this!”

“Come now, Rimmer, that’s all in the past,” said Lister, resting a hand on his shoulder. “And this is now. We don’t need old reminders of that barbaric way we used to live before.” He took another swig of the red wine and smiled. “Take your drink. Dance with me again and forget everything else. This can be the rest of our lives. Just say the word and I will make it come true.”

“No, I can’t accept your offer. I won’t, because I know how this story ends.” said Rimmer, brushing his hand off his shoulder. 

Lister held up a hand to cut off his speech. “Stop! Think about everything you’re seeing, the people, the lights, the music!”

Rimmer stood his ground, meeting Lister’s gaze without fear. “We obtain all this, but we lose ourselves in the process.” said Rimmer, his voice still and calm as he spoke. “We get a taste of luxury and soon we become addicted, and in the end it destroys us.”

“It can go differently this time!” The Cat exclaimed desperately. “We can still live the high life, and you can stop Doomsday since you already see it coming! It’ll be a win-win!”

“Yes. I can prevent it. There’s only one way to do it,” said Rimmer. He held the wine glass in the air, looking at his own reflection again, thankful it was still his own face looking back at him. “Cat, Lister, we are going home.”

Rimmer threw the wine glass to the ground. The masked Lister and the Cat each leaped to try and catch it, but they were too late. The wine hit the floor with the sound of broken glass. Just as the wine glass broke apart, the entire ballroom fell into tiny pieces. The images of the band, the dancers, and Rimmer’s masked crew mates all dissipated, until there was nothing left. 

Rimmer was left free falling into the vast, dark sea of space. He kept tumbling down, endlessly until a small green shape came closer into view. Soon he realized it was _Starbug_. He passed right through the roof, and slammed hard into the cockpit floor.

Just then, Rimmer’s eyes opened, and he was awake again. It took him a while to get his bearings. Bits and pieces of his short term memory mixed in with what he’d been dreaming, and it took a while to sort reality from fantasy. While he pieced together where he was, Rimmer eased himself off the floor. 

The dizziness had passed, but left a pounding headache in its wake. Some of his circuits had yet to recover from the interrupted recharge. It felt like Rimmer had a hangover, but didn’t even get the joy and relaxation of drinking the night before. That glamorous dream had probably been close enough, but even then, it turned sour in the end. It all but reinforced one of Rimmer’s most fundamental truths. If something looked too good to be true, then it probably was.

Pushing away his other thoughts, Rimmer went to check on _Starbug’s_ map. So far, they were staying on the course Rimmer remembered drawing. The red dot was still there on the screen, and so were the words that told Rimmer what it was. They were still on track, making their way out of the minefield.

With nothing else to do up front, Rimmer made his way back to the recharging station. He took a glimpse at Kryten’s electronic chart as he passed by. Much like the monitors that showed people’s pulses and heart rates, the screen displayed the voltage, and the packets of data going through Kryten’s system at any given time. All of the numbers were normal. It meant Rimmer could rest and finish his recharge without incident.

Taking a look at the timer on Kryten’s recharging dock; Rimmer set his own clock accordingly. He had to do a double take when making note of the time. It read: six days, twelve hours, and forty four minutes. Rimmer had been passed out for half a day! It was no wonder he felt like he’d just been hit on the head by welding mallet.

Hoping to solve his problem rather soon, he lay down on the metal cot and began his internal countdown.

Rimmer decided that he was going to try a different strategy this time. Since the typical calming images of wide open meadows, warm tropical beaches, and flowing waterfalls were lost on him, he would try and imagine the mundane. He needed to think about the ordinary things, if only as a reminder that they were still here.

Rimmer shut his eyes. In his head, he tried to go back to a time before all this madness began. This took some heavy thinking, but eventually he settled on a Tuesday night he spent with the crew two weeks ago.

It had been a nice, quiet day, and Rimmer had taken it for granted now that he thought of it. They didn’t run into anyone hostile, which is to say, they didn’t run into any other ships at all. It was also a day where they were completely clear of asteroid belts, black holes, solar flares, and various other natural hazards. It was one of the few days where Rimmer, Lister, Cat and Kryten spent a full twenty four hours in a state of relaxation.

They passed some of the time playing cards, each of them suggesting a different game to play. Lister had insisted on poker, with the betting chips as a way of keeping score. Rimmer himself favored a game of twenty-one, as the rules were even simple enough for the Cat to understand. It was no surprise when the Cat dealt them in for go fish, but rather shocking when they all found out first hand from Kryten that 52 Pick-Up was a game that was taken very seriously among mechanoids. Doing it as a joke, like humans normally did, was considered quite sick and mean-spirited.

The crew member who won the most card games got to pick which movie they would play on one of the small screens inside the cockpit. The Cat had been the lucky one, finishing 52 Pick-Up just five seconds faster than Kryten. He picked the movie _Footloose_. Rimmer didn’t care for the movie or its plot really, but thought the soundtrack was decent enough. While he didn’t really want to be caught singing in front of those three jokers who shared his company, he had been more than happy to tap his feet along to some of the catchier hits, especially the main theme.

Lister had been generous enough to share a box of Bunch-a-Crunch chocolate candies, while Kryten insisted on cooking the popcorn on the stove because it was supposed to be better for them. Rimmer had done his part in bringing in the drinks - non-alcoholic, because they were still on the lookout for any derelict that had supplies. Even without the extra kick to it though, Rimmer’s orange soda had been good enough. They had been rationing their food and drinks for quite some time, so even something with a bit of sugar and carbonation had been a real treat.

At the end credits, the Cat was still moving his body, mimicking the dances he’d seen on screen. Lister was going on some tangent about freedom of expression, and how it was impossible to keep a law against dancing for very long. Kryten was cleaning up their empty aluminum cans and taking the popcorn bowl back to the dishwasher. 

Rimmer quietly ejected the tape from the player, and made sure that it was securely in its case. He shelved it in its alphabetical place, although that hadn’t been hard to do. Their movie selection was a mere fraction of what it would be on _Red Dwarf_. They hadn’t packed for a long-term voyage, but they would have to get by with what they had.

On that day, they were getting by just fine. And maybe if enough time passed, Rimmer would live to see another day just like that Tuesday two weeks ago.

Rimmer changed from hard light to soft light. He hardly felt the difference between the two forms, as he was half asleep in the first place. Then his soft light image shrunk completely into his light bee, leaving it to drop into the metallic hole in the cot. While Rimmer was fully powered down, electricity flowed into him.

While his projected body lay dormant, Rimmer’s mind was still active. The main purpose of a recharging dock was to restore both physical and mental energy to its user, when holo sleep proved to be inefficient. The machine sent calming waves, which were supposed to send positive thoughts and lead to pleasant dreams.

But Rimmer’s encoded memories of the disaster prevented the waves from taking their usual effect. They surrounded Rimmer’s subconscious like a thick, impenetrable concrete wall. Nothing could get through, and Rimmer himself had no way to escape. He was inside a mental prison of his own creation.

Within the depths of his troubled mind, Rimmer’s imagination never stopped working. Fear had always been a companion of his, but this time it came to the forefront and took complete control. It made Rimmer forget his colorful, glamorous fantasies, as well as the solace he tried to give himself in the mundane. Only terror was left, and it would work against him in sinister ways.


	5. The Last Resort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As he tries to rest at his recharging station, Rimmer faces yet another nightmare where Kryten has betrayed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "Non-Graphic Violence" warning is definitely in effect for this chapter. This nightmare got pretty dark. Also this begins Rimmer's spiral of very unhealthy habits, so a warning for that as well. Things will get better, but they're about to get a whole lot worse first.

Rimmer was on a bed. This would normally not be an issue, but he found that he could not move. Rimmer’s wrists, ankles, and waist were tied down with leather restraints. He struggled and writhed against them, but they didn’t come loose. Someone had him at their mercy, and they were about to do something awful to him.

“Oh, my, you weren’t supposed to wake up yet.” said a voice off in the distance. The words were eloquent, and almost chillingly polite. “No matter. This procedure won’t take long.”

Rimmer struggled more against his bonds as the owner of the voice stepped closer. Now that he got a good look at him, he could make out who it was. It was Kryten, only it wasn’t the overbearing, stubborn, droid who Rimmer knew as one of his companions. This was Kryten’s future self, who wore the baby blue suit, a golden medallion, and that ghastly dark brown toupee on his head that looked like taxidermy roadkill. Besides his rather tasteless appearance, Rimmer could see an electric screwdriver in Kryten’s right hand.

Kryten pressed a button, and the drill bit started spinning.

“Kryten, stop! What do you think you’re doing?!” Rimmer cried. “Put that down and release me immediately!”

“I’m sorry, Mister Rimmer, but I’m afraid I can’t do that.” said Kryten. “You’ve been far too defiant. I’ll need to make some adjustments so you’ll be more _cooperative_.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what you’re planning.” said Rimmer. “You’re going to torture me into submission, aren’t you?”

“What’s the matter? Are you afraid? There’s no reason to be. What I’m doing isn’t torture, sir, it’s actually quite humane.” said Kryten as he stepped closer. “After this, you won’t feel any more guilt, fear or pain. I should know. I removed those pesky chips from my motherboard, and I feel _great_.”

“So you performed a self-lobotomy?” Rimmer commented. “No wonder you’ve flipped.”

Despite his struggles against the restraints, they hardly came loose. He couldn’t see any other viable exits either. He had to keep talking, and hopefully stall this crazed droid closing in on him.

“I bet you’ll win the contest for _The Universe’s Most Deranged Droid of the Year_ , from now until the end of time.” Rimmer said. “You’ll probably even get a golden plaque for the Worst Toupee that’s ever been seen by people living or dead!”

“You’re not making this any easier on yourself, Mister Rimmer.” said Kryten. Rimmer’s comments didn’t seem to slow him down, and now he was looming over the hologram with the electric screwdriver still going in his hand. “To think, I was going to be merciful on you and remove your pain circuits first. Now I’ll have to save them for last. Brace yourself, sir. This will hurt, and no one is coming to your rescue.”

Rimmer closed his eyes tight as the sound of the screwdriver grew closer. His age old fight or flight instincts took him over, and within seconds, he changed. His uniform color switched from blue to red. He wasn’t hard light! The restraints could no longer hold him. Just as Kryten jabbed the screwdriver in his direction, Rimmer pulled away from the table, and partially passed through the droid as he bolted to the exit.

Using voice commands, Rimmer shut and locked the door behind him. This wouldn’t hold Kryten forever, but it would delay him. Any extra minutes gave Rimmer time to form his strategy.

Of course, for now, his only strategy was to run. Rimmer went in a zigzag pattern, in an attempt to throw Kryten off his trail. There were few places to hide, and Rimmer knew how meticulous Kryten could be. He would check every air duct, look under every bed and open all the cupboards and closets. It was great when Kryten paid this much attention to detail when he was cleaning, but less than ideal if he was suddenly on your heels holding a sharp object.

Continuing his retreat, Rimmer didn’t dare look backward. Looking back was never a good choice. He could still hear the future Kryten’s footsteps behind him, no matter how many times he closed and locked doors as he went. He was gaining on him, and that was rather worrying.

Rimmer had to think fast. Where could he go? It had to be somewhere that was fairly sturdy, and would take more than one door to get through. There were plenty of rooms like that on _Red Dwarf_ , but not that many on _Starbug_. As a matter of fact, there was only one that Rimmer could recall at the moment.

He doubled his speed, making it to the hallway just outside the cargo bay. Rimmer shut and locked the first hallway door, and then he ordered the second one shut. He narrowly squeezed through as it slammed to a close, and put a voice activated lock on it.

Once he was inside the room amid all the boxes, barrels, and bags of supplies, Rimmer stood still for a brief moment to change back into hard light form. He quickly grabbed a metal box and all but threw it against the door, as he could already hear banging on the other side. Rimmer grabbed another metal box and rolled it on top of the first one, stacking them just door height.

The boxes would buy him some time at least, but they would not hold forever. Kryten would soon come after him with a bazookoid when brute strength was not enough to get through. Not even diamond, the hardest known substance could stand up to a blast from a bazookoid. A weapon like that was designed to shoot through entire mountains, so the _JMC_ could reach the precious minerals that needed to be extracted. A steel door and a couple of common storage boxes wouldn’t hold up forever.

Rimmer wasn’t sure where the others were. For now, he was on his own, without any hope of reinforcements. If he was going to make it out of this, Rimmer would have to use his very last of last resorts. He would have to fight against Kryten, and maybe even aim to kill. Doing that with his bare hands was out of the question. Rimmer needed a weapon.

He rifled through the contents of the other boxes which were further into the cargo hold. The boxes contained what were usually life’s essentials when exploring wild, untamed territories. There were cans of fresh water, vacuum sealed food rations, emergency oxygen masks and even a rolled tent. Somewhere along the way, the crew must have forgotten to pack extra firepower since leaving the _Red Dwarf_ and becoming marooned in deep space. Rimmer couldn’t even find a decent officer’s saber, let alone a spare bazookoid.

As he went to open another box, a shiny metal object caught Rimmer’s eye. He took a closer look at it. It looked like a standard Space Corps issued sidearm with eight shots, but something was different about this one. Instead of the typical steel and platinum alloy, this one had a gold tone to it. It was still shining bright, even in the gloom of the cargo bay.

Rimmer had seen this gun before. It belonged to that pretentious, showboating peacock, Ace. Rimmer could just picture him now, with a smile of his pearly whites, that stupid, annoying macho voice and that ridiculous catchphrase of his, aiming this gold and silver pistol and never missing a shot. Rimmer wanted to throw it, but he hesitated. This was probably the only weapon he’d find. If he went by the tried and true rule of “finders’ keepers,” it was technically _his_ officer issued sidearm. He could live with that.

There was an explosion just outside the door, followed by the muffled sounds of Kryten’s voice. Rimmer couldn’t make out what his crew member was trying to say, but he guessed that it wasn’t anything nice. He hid further in the maze of boxes, and then took a look at the pistol’s chamber. All eight shots were there, which was good news. He would probably need every single one of them.

Another loud boom signified the corrupted Kryten’s entrance into the room.

“I know what you’re doing, Mister Rimmer! You’re sneaking around, like the frightened little rat you are.” Kryten said, laughing sadistically. “I’ve flushed out rats before, sir. All you have to do is set a fire!”

There was a click as he loaded his bazookoid, and he fired off another blast. A storage box burst open and spilled the charred remains of two space suits onto the floor. There was another click. Another box was blown apart, and an entire package of tuna sizzled into nothingness.

The two blasts went off yards away from Rimmer’s hiding spot. He froze in place, afraid to move, not daring to gasp or flinch. Any small reaction could tip off his location, and then he’d either be dragged back to that table or vaporized entirely. He watched and waited for an opening.

“Don’t hold this against me, Mister Rimmer. You know I can’t help myself.” Kryten said sinisterly. “Efficiency is in my internal code. Once I start a task, I’m programmed to _finish it_.”

_Click._

By hearing the sound of his voice and large, menacing footsteps, Rimmer knew that Kryten was just two boxes down from him. It was too late to slip away and find another place to hide. Bazookoid fire could hit him easily if he was in the middle of pushing a box. Against his better instincts, Rimmer stood his ground, backing against two crates behind him, aiming forward.

Kryten blasted through the two boxes that served as Rimmer’s cover. The blast knocked the top box aside, giving him a clear shot to his target. He quickly loaded and fired again. Rimmer reacted fast, firing a shot and ducking just before the blast could hit him. It hit the wall just behind him, sending boxes and barrels tumbling onto the floor. The shot from Rimmer’s pistol embedded into Kryten’s right arm, stalling him just enough time for Rimmer to crouch behind another storage crate.

Looking around the corner, Rimmer had the perfect opening. Kryten’s back was exposed. Now was probably the only chance Rimmer had to take him down. He aimed, and fired off another shot. Kryten turned around, hearing the bang as the shot went off. The bullet grazed him on his side. The android could just make out which angle it came from, and shot the bazookoid in that direction. Rimmer backed against a nearby wall, feeling the heat of the energy ball as it sped past him.

Their battle raged on. There were flashes of blue from Kryten’s bazookoid fire, and little silver dots as Rimmer fired from Ace’s pistol. In a matter of minutes, the _Starbug’s_ cargo bay was a flattened pile of flaming rubble. There weren’t any more spots to take cover. They were both out in the open, facing each other like two gunfighters in an old western.

“I’ve been counting your shots.” said Kryten, loading the bazookoid full of energy. “You have fired seven. You only have one more.”

“And I haven’t counted your shots, Kryten, but those fireballs are getting smaller, aren’t they?” Rimmer replied. “You’ll probably only get one shot out of that bazookoid before it becomes dead weight.”

Kryten aimed his weapon, with no hint of hesitation or regret. “One shot is all I will need. I will give you one more chance to accept your upgrades peacefully.”

“Kryten, diplomacy is what winners do after the war. You haven’t won yet.” Rimmer told him. “I won’t surrender, but I’ll give you a chance to flip your circuit board back to normal.”

“This _is_ my normal now, sir.” Kryten said coldly. “You need to accept that.”

“No, this isn’t our reality yet,” said Rimmer. “And it will never be. I won’t allow it!”

“Then this is where we must part.” Kryten said. His hand rested over the bazookoid’s trigger. “Goodbye, Mister Rimmer.”

“Goodbye, Kryten.” Rimmer replied. As he gripped the trigger on the gold and silver pistol, tears were forming in the corners of his eyes.

Both Kryten and Rimmer fired their shots at once.

The silver bullet from the pistol struck Kryten in his torso, breaking the chain that held the gold medallion. The mechanoid stumbled backward, and that horrible wig came off as he hit the floor head first. The bullet had embedded deep within his memory chip. There would be no chance of recovery.

The energy blast hit Rimmer in his chest, leaving a hole in his hard light pixels. He let go of the golden silver pistol, and it skidded across the ground. Then Rimmer’s form slumped forwards, hitting the floor. His projection shrunk inwards...

And in the outside world, Rimmer’s soft light form expanded into his shape, as he was forced awake from his state of recharge. He ran his hands over his chest, looking for the hole, only to see nothing there. He reached inside to check his light bee. There was no damage, and the time he spent inside the recharging dock actually topped his internal batteries at one hundred percent. Only the hard light switch lay dormant, and he could flip it any time he wanted to.

Rimmer was alive, or at least, his definition of alive. The escape, the chase, and the gun duel hadn’t really happened, and he wasn’t physically damaged. He was here in the recharging room, he was functional, and he was alone.

Rimmer wasn’t exactly alone, however. Just ahead of him was Kryten, still in mechanical hibernation. The sight of him bolt upright and eyes glowing made Rimmer gasp and practically jump off his metal cot. He shouldn’t have been scared of a droid whose main concern was cleaning lavatories, but Rimmer’s mind was addled. After a dream like that, the last thing he wanted to see was Kryten’s face.

The drilling sound of the screwdriver and the shots fired in their duel still echoed in Rimmer’s mind. Rimmer screamed, holding his head between his hands as he tried to shake away the sensations. He bolted out of the recharging chamber, his circuits and chips overloading with panic. For good measure, he closed the doors on the chamber, and activated the lock, sealing Kryten inside.

Rimmer wandered the hallway in the middle section of _Starbug_. He was trying to decide where to go from here. Now that his energy was completely restored, he would have to find a way to spend it. At least he wouldn’t feel like sleeping any time soon. The dreams and images couldn’t bother him while he was awake.

Rimmer looked at his digital wristwatch. He had five days until the others awakened. Maybe he’d just stay up for five days in a row. That was unheard of for a human, but he might just be able to do it as a hologram. He’d staved off holo-sleep before.

Once he was up a whole seventy two hours, trying to cram in four months’ worth of revision in preparation for another exam. Another time he’d been up for two and a half days with Lister, when he’d come down with a rather nasty fever and was refusing curry and lager. Then there was the time he forced himself to stay up for three days and two hours after that incident with the despair squid, in hopes that he wasn't actually William Doyle.

Maybe he’d never done a five-day stretch before, but he'd come close enough. Rimmer was willing to try it.


	6. Mayday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the others remain in stasis, Rimmer tries to cope with his loneliness by studying. Things do not work quite as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is another one where things get particularly heavy. Rimmer is definitely feeling Holly's absence along with everyone else's.

There were plenty of ways to spend a whole five days in solitude while keeping one's sanity intact. Rimmer would just have to keep a cool head and his wits about him. Maybe he didn't have to think of this as solitude, but instead as an environment without everyday distractions. The crew's antics and encounters with hostile life forms all but made it impossible for Rimmer to make a daily goal list and stick to it. Now he had the opportunity to be productive, and he wasn't going to waste it.

He really should have thought of this idea two days ago! If he had a to-do list, there would have been no time for a single nightmare to work its way in. He would keep busy, and the hours would pass in no time. 

And now that it was quieter, he could get in some revision time easily. Rimmer didn't remember the last time he was able to sit down properly with his books, sticky notes and color coded pens. Every time he thought he understood the words in the astronavigation textbooks, he quickly forgot them because he was fleeing some kind of danger or hiding when a natural disaster struck. Deep space wasn't exactly a library, and no one had to keep their noise down for the poor sap studying for his exams. 

But now opportunity was knocking, and Rimmer was practically ripping the door open for it. Maybe he could actually pass the exam this time with no one around to bother him. Rimmer grinned at the very idea. Maybe he would be awarded with his Navigation Officer insignia just in time for the others to emerge from stasis. 

Things would change when he became an officer. He could just picture it. Lister, Kryten, and even the Cat would have to officially call him “sir.” They would salute him and they would do it _his_ way. And they could hardly question Rimmer’s decision to turn the ship around since it was an _executive_ decision that was made for the good of the crew. This ragtag group of misfits might not have seen him as an authority figure now, but that was only because he was still a second technician on paper. But if he was suddenly an officer, they would change their tune.

Rimmer strode into the storage closet where the group kept their books, movies, music records and AR game discs. He was humming the first verse of the Space Corps anthem, ready to gather up all he needed to make this revision session count. It would be the longest time he ever sat down with his textbooks.

He reached over to grab the first out of five volumes of the _Space Corps Astronavigation Official Text_ , but his hand went right through. In his moment he spent fantasizing about becoming an officer at last, Rimmer had forgot that he was still in soft light mode. He reached inside himself and flipped a switch in his light bee, and his red uniform turned into blue. He then proceeded to stack the first three volumes of the _Astronavigation Official Text_ , along with a smaller paperback called _Astronavigation and Strategy Made Simple_. 

Rimmer went on to hum the second verse of the anthem, and headed out the door.

He unloaded the thick hardcover volumes at his on the table just in front of his seat in the cockpit. He placed the smaller paperback nearby just in case the words got too complicated. He took a glance at the digital map just to make sure the auto-pilot was still on course for _Red Dwarf_. Nothing had changed.

With nothing else to do, Rimmer opened the front cover of the _Space Corps Astronavigation Official Text, Volume I_. He stopped and read the dedications, all from the highest fliers the Corps had ever seen. It didn’t matter that he was three million years into deep space, Rimmer was still certain that his name would be somewhere in the dedications for the latest Official Text. He’d make it happen this time.

Going past the dedication, Rimmer began to read the very first paragraph in earnest. His eyes scanned the page, and his processing chip slowed down upon seeing the fifteen letter words, Latin roots, and complicated charts. He kept volume one open, but quickly opened to the first page of _Astronavigation and Strategy Made Simple_. There were still charts, numbers and graphs, but they had color! The print was larger, and the key words were already highlighted. He soon shoved the larger book aside and concentrated intently on the simpler text, scribbling on a sticky note and marking the page that told about the Law of Universal Gravitation. 

From there, he tried to continue on, but even the simplest, most easy-to-understand text could not stave off this internal awareness that he was alone. All signs of life and the living were gone from _Starbug_. The background noise of conversation, laughter, and the occasional sloppy table manners from both Lister and the Cat were no longer heard. They were replaced with the sounds of the non-living: the air flowing from the vents into the room, the hum of the engine as it kept the ship heading to its distant destination, and the beeps and boops from the various machines as they went about their usual clockwork functions. 

Now that Rimmer could hear them, they were louder than any attempt Lister made at a guitar solo. They were worse than the sound of Kryten’s vacuum cleaner as he went about the rooms, almost obsessively sucking up all the dust into… well, Rimmer didn’t want to think about it. Even the Cat’s annoying voice would have been better than hearing the machines. At least the Cat could properly sing and hold a tune.

Rimmer must have reread the next paragraph in the simpler text at least seven times before he set it aside. He rubbed his temples from the stress. He couldn’t focus for the life of him! He looked at his wristwatch. Rimmer had only been studying for twenty five minutes, but it felt like much longer than that. The quiet he had wasn’t exactly peaceful. He needed something to drown out the mechanical noise, preferably something that had human voices.

Sliding a bookmark into the paperback, Rimmer got up from his chair and made his way back to the storage closet. He grabbed four movies, half a dozen music records, and two full recordings of Earth News they’d received from a mail pod.

Going back to his makeshift study area, Rimmer set down the tapes and records, wondering which one he should put in first. He decided to pick whichever movie was at the top of the stack, and he put it in. 

It was a remake of _Casablanca_. Rimmer had watched the original quite a few times, and thankfully the remake kept the same opening theme. He tapped his pencil to the beat while looking at the thicker Astro Nav volume he’d set aside earlier.

But as the first spoken lines came on the screen, a realization hit Rimmer like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t just doing a night’s revision alone, with a movie playing in the background. He had his nose in a book on a Sunday night as usual, while _Casablanca_ was playing. Only this time, it was playing without Lister. It was the first time he ever put on a movie without Lister, and the others trailing close behind him. Movies just weren’t a thing that they watched by themselves, it was always a whole group affair, unless it was Rimmer’s own home videos. 

_Casablanca_ didn’t feel the same without Lister’s humming the opening score. It wasn’t much of a movie watching experience at all without Kryten getting up and wiping the screen because he saw one tiny smudge in the left hand corner. Rimmer halfway expected to hear the Cat wake up from yet another feline nap time, and ask where the opening cartoon of _Tom and Jerry_ went. But as he waited for these and other moments, they never came. The movie might as well have been in French. It felt too foreign to him.

Rimmer tried to persevere through the uncomfortable atmosphere. He switched his attention between his books, his notes, _Starbug’s_ navigation map, and the movie. By the time the ending credits were rolling, he’d set his books aside completely and watched every name scroll down the screen. When it was finally over, Rimmer switched off the movie player and turned back to his notes.

He picked up a yellow sticky, and then an orange one. The curves, graphs, and formulas didn’t even look like his handwriting. The words and definitions were abbreviated, to the point where they made no sense whatsoever. He could never get this quantum theory stuff right, unless he heard Lister finish the key words and phrases. Their sentences were bound together like a pair of Siamese twins. Rimmer could only ever remember the beginning, while Lister always had the ending.

Rimmer carried on with his revision, another movie, and the occasional pause when he would ask a question, only to discover that no one else was around to aid his memory. Sometime before the dawn of the next day, Rimmer had brewed a cup of coffee to keep his senses feeling sharp. He made it dark, and put two shots of espresso instead of just a single one. He was going in for the long haul, and didn’t even want to risk nodding off at this point. He’d probably have nightmares of his future self having passed the exams, claiming that the time drive was the only way he could possibly do the same. Rimmer wasn’t about go through that nonsense.

He brought the double espresso back to his study area. A few hours passed without him even noticing. The espresso had gone cold long ago. Without the Cat around to knock over the coffee mug, as he often did to anything on a table, Rimmer had no reason to drink it fast. The next taste he had was extremely bitter. He spat it out. It was horrible! It was just as bad as the time he was served ice cold coffee at a little diner on Mimas.

Out of habit, he held out the cup with a sour look on his face.

“Kryten, get me another.” Rimmer said. “This one’s gone colder than a Russian ice skating rink.”

No one answered him. 

Did he really just say that? He _knew_ Kryten wasn’t here to get him fresher coffee. Rimmer shook his head and went to go get rid of this bitter, cold mess in hopes of drinking something warm. On his way to the kitchen, Rimmer thought he heard humming from just inside the room. It was the first few beats of _From Ganymede to Titan_. Hearing the tune caused Rimmer to chuckle, as he stepped through the doorway.

“Ah, Lister. I thought I would find you here.” Rimmer said knowingly. “Half past two in the afternoon, it’s time for your breakfast, isn’t it? What will it be today? Sugar puff sandwiches, or will it be a glass of vindaloo sauce?”

Rimmer’s smile fell as he looked towards an empty table. This couldn’t be right! Lister was here, he just heard him humming! Where could he have gone so fast? Lister had no talents for stealth. Rimmer would have seen if he left that room.

Dumping the old espresso down the sink, Rimmer set up the machine to make another. He watched the coffee machine pour into his mug perfectly, and then light up green when it was finished. Rimmer cupped the mug in his hands, just letting it rest there so he could feel its warmth.

He couldn’t believe this. He was a mess. Another day had crept up on him and then passed him by, and Rimmer hardly noticed. And in all the time he spent setting up his perfect little cubby for revision, very little writing, note-taking, or highlighting had been done. Rimmer spent more time either watching the films that he put in for background noise, listening to his music, or fixating on the ship’s autopilot course.

Rimmer took a drink from his espresso. He’d basically lost a day going through the motions, and now he was starting to see and hear the others when they clearly weren’t around. He wasn’t sure why that happened. Was it possible to miss the most obnoxious people that he ever had the displeasure of sharing his company with?

Well, maybe it was, when they were his only companions who stuck with him and generally looked after him, in their own ways.

Something still didn’t make sense to him. Lister, Cat and Kryten weren’t exactly _gone_ , so how could he miss them?They were here. At the same time, they weren’t here _with him_. The wall of stasis separated them, and it might as well have been a thick concrete wall that was used to build nuclear bunkers. It felt just as impossible to break through and talk to them. 

Rimmer took another drink of his espresso.

Even the bright side to his situation was starting to look rather grim. Maybe it was quieter than usual, but it was not as peaceful as Rimmer imagined it would be. Whether or not he admitted it, the others filled a void in his heart. Even though he was a hologram, Rimmer still felt the human instinct to socialize and find a connection to others. In his human life, he hadn’t succeeded in making any truly meaningful ties to anyone. If you asked him, he would still regard his ragtag crew as “people he met,” but there would be part of that he always left out.

They were people he met, and somehow still remained loyal to him, despite his own cowardice and shortcomings. Rimmer didn’t know how to repay them. As a matter of fact, this was the first time he thought about how many chances they all had to leave him behind. Instead, they chose to stand by him. It must have been their shared adversity that kept them together. 

A flash of clarity made its way into Rimmer’s mind. He remembered why he was putting himself through all this. He wasn’t really interested in the books right now, and he knew it. Although having some shiny new pips would be a bonus, he wasn’t staying up on _Starbug_ this particular week to become an officer, although he would have said otherwise.

For once in his life, Rimmer was acting with more than his usual ego and self-interest. The moment he challenged the flow of time itself, was the moment he truly realized how important the other three were to him. He didn’t want to lose them, not when he finally started to open his heart in many small ways. He would never be completely open and bare his all to them, that much was true. But he told Lister, Kryten and Cat more than he’d ever remembered telling anyone else in the twelve years of long service he had on the mining ship.

Rimmer never felt close enough to anyone that he would consider fighting for them until now. He was doing all of this for those three. And he had no way of knowing if his plan to steer them somewhere else was going to work, but he had to try. In all the infinite dimensions and parallel universes, he couldn’t imagine an Arnold Rimmer that didn’t at least _try_. He was practically famous for trying, even if in the case of his exams, they didn’t give anyone a pass for persistence.

Downing the rest of his coffee with some gusto, Rimmer put the mug in the dish strainer after he washed it out.

He could handle this. It was just a matter of passing the minutes by, and pretending that he’d just woke up from an actual good night’s rest. The double espresso was starting to work like it should, sending signals to his internal circuits that Rimmer was in fact, not tired at all. He had hit his second wind.

He would need a third and fourth wind to continue on, but for now that wasn’t important.

All that mattered now was that he had the will and drive to continue this revision session, all while seeing to _Starbug’s_ safe passage to _Red Dwarf_.

At first, his newfound energy was actually working well for Rimmer. Once he returned to his study area, he put on a Mozart record, and went back to his books in earnest. His pen was writing at record speed in his careful, neat manuscript. The numbers, graphs, and theories practically jumped out of the pages, and he could see the figures before he had a chance to write them down.

Rimmer soon filled dozens of note cards and bookmarked about six pages on the _Made Simple_ manual, while bookmarking two pages on the _Official Text_. He carried on like a machine, reading a bit more, writing down a lot, and saying the words, numbers, and the maneuvers out loud quite easily. He’d seen most of the theories and concepts played out in real life onboard _Starbug_ and the _Red Dwarf_. A good majority of them were evasion strategies.

Rimmer’s note-taking frenzy lasted well into the evening.

Eventually, he started to slow down. His overworked energy circuits were reminding him that he was running in overclocked time. Rimmer’s hands jittered as he traced his finger along the bottom of a sentence. He attempted to read it out loud and stopped mid-sentence. The words stopped making sense. He wasn’t even sure if he had the letter sounds correct.

Late night revision with a cup of coffee seemed like a reasonably good idea. But like any plan with good intentions, Rimmer had taken it to the extreme. A cup and a half of double shot espresso did strange things to a distressed mind that was already anxious enough to begin with. When he crashed from the caffeine, he crashed hard.

Rimmer set aside the books and marked the last page on each of them. He didn’t have it in him to concentrate on them. He could always return to them later.

All he needed was five minutes to calm down. He waited and listened for the calming sounds of Beethoven's _Moonlight Sonata_ , but they never came. Instead the ever prevalent mechanical background noise of _Starbug_ took their place. His record must have shut off and he'd have to turn it back on again. 

It took some effort, but Rimmer managed to stand up so he could replay the music. He placed the needle on the vinyl record and the soft sounds of the piano filled the room. Rimmer sat back in his chair, and quietly drummed his fingers on the table to go along with the keystrokes. Out of all Beethoven's music, he fancied this score the most. There was something majestic about the way musicians in the past used to dedicate music to the moon. The songs of Rimmer's contemporaries about artificial space colonies never quite gave the same feelings of wonder and admiration. 

Rimmer laid his head on the table. He fought the urge to close his eyes. He didn't want this moment of peace to be disturbed or corrupted. He just wanted to listen to the sonata in its entirety. Then he could probably center himself and keep on trying. 

When he was halfway through the musical piece, a different type of music could be heard in the distance. It sounded groovy, and made him think up images of sparkling disco balls and men in shiny suits. Unfortunately it also reminded Rimmer of a time before the radiation leak, when he'd taken learning drugs for an exam and asked Lister for his timetable. He didn't like this funky music as it is, and he liked it even less when it made him recall unpleasant thoughts. 

Who was playing that racket anyhow? Wasn't he the only one on technically on board? The skutters had been left behind on _Red Dwarf_. As far as he knew, the others should have still been in stasis. Either they were released early, or five days really only felt like two. 

They couldn't have awakened already. Even if they had, surely they would have told Rimmer that they emerged safely from stasis. Why would they keep it from him?

More importantly, why were they throwing an impromptu dance party? Maybe Rimmer had put them on the right track, but they weren't finished with their mission to reach _Red Dwarf_! They had no time to lose. 

Rimmer was going to have a stern word with those three jokers. It was one thing to shirk one's duties to the ship for a night of musical reverie. It was even worse that they were cutting into one of Rimmer's resting periods. He deserved his alone time with real music, not the noise pollution coming from these air waves. Rimmer stopped the Beethoven record. He would listen to it when there were no more interruptions.

Rising up from his chair, Rimmer followed the dreadful sound. He was hoping to find the source and put a stop to it. As he made a beeline through the corridors, Rimmer was led to the green dining table. 

As Rimmer halfway suspected, Lister, Cat and Kryten were the ones behind this. They were awake, and they were dancing in a circle around the table. A red and silver boom box was playing _Don't Stop ‘til You Get Enough_ at full blast. Well, Rimmer definitely had enough, and he started to imagine creative ways to smash the boom box to itty, bitty pieces. 

"Off!" Rimmer commanded. 

Although he shouted it loud and clear, the terrible music kept on going. His three crew mates also kept up with their idiotic, hip shaking dancing. They didn't even bother to acknowledge he was in the room! They gave the chairs more attention!

"I said, off!" Rimmer shouted in frustration. This did nothing.

He glared at Lister, Cat and Kryten with seething contempt. 

"What do you three think you're doing?! We are still flying through deep space!" shouted Rimmer. "We don't have time to frolic around in circles like a bunch of drunken hippies at a "free love" music festival!"

Kryten stopped moving and made a show of looking surprised. 

"Did you two hear something?" the droid asked. 

"I don't hear anything but the groove, Robo-Bud!" said the Cat. 

"It must be the sound of us getting down!" said Lister. 

"The jig is up! You can't just pretend I'm not here!" shouted Rimmer. "You three might not take our roles on this ship seriously, but I do!"

Rimmer reached over to grab Lister by the arm. His hand passed straight through him. Rimmer looked at his hands, alarmed. He was almost certain he was still in his hard light form. Rimmer pinched himself to be sure, and he felt it. If he could reach through them, they were probably fakes. 

"Wait, I thought I heard something just now!" said Lister curiously.

"That's probably the sound of your two left feet." said the Cat. "You should see yourself! You call that dancing?"

"Well, we all know it's not Mister Rimmer." said Kryten sarcastically. "He refused my invitation and said he couldn't make it!"

All three of them laughed.

"The guy's totally mental. We get our hands on a time machine and what does he do?" Lister said, smirking as he got to the punch line of his joke. "He uses it to swipe Todhunter's revision timetable and now he's following it to the letter!"

"Really, sir, what a nerdy thing to do!" Kryten said, chortling.

"He just doesn't know what he's missing. He'll come around once we get some eye candy." said the Cat. He licked his lips suggestively.

All three of them laughed again. 

Rimmer couldn't stand it anymore. He tried to swat the image away, but it remained. He'd long suspected that Lister and the others talked behind his back when he wasn't looking. It was bad enough that they made him the butt of their jokes and reminded him almost daily that they didn't like him much. 

This hurt more than he wanted it to, and made him question his earlier insight into their strange bonds. There was a part of him that didn't want his suspicions to be true. It was the hopeful side of him that survived that dreadful Psi-Moon. Maybe they hadn't meant all that sappy hugging stuff, but they didn't desert him. That had to mean _something_.

Rimmer looked sharply away from the vision of his crew. They were still carrying on merrily without him. As soon as he looked away, another voice called out to him. It was distant, and it wasn't sharing in the joy at Rimmer's expense. It was Holly's voice, without his usual quips about his intelligence. He sounded like he was in pain. 

"Help me..." said Holly. Lister and company paid it no mind. 

"Holly? I'm here! I read you!" said Rimmer. "It's me, Second Technician Rimmer!"

"Arnold, help me..." said Holly's voice. It was starting to break up in static. The computer's face appeared on screen, but it was a very faint signal. 

"Holly, what happened to you?" asked Rimmer frantically.

"I've crash landed, Arnold. I can't move." said Holly.

"Can you tell me where you are?" asked Rimmer. "I need clues! Give me some coordinates, pictures, neighboring planets, anything!”

"The ground is sandy, and the sky is red. I may be on Mars." said Holly. 

"No, that can't be right!" said Rimmer. "That's three million years away! How am I supposed to retrieve you?"

"I don't know, Arnold." said Holly. 

"But you have an IQ of six thousand!" Rimmer cried. "You're supposed to know everything!"

"I do know a lot, Arnold." said Holly. "But I never learned about the afterlife or if a God truly, tangibly exists."

"That's not important right now, you have to conserve your energy!" said Rimmer. "I'm coming, Holly. I'll find a way to aid you. Lister and I will work dawn until dusk to repair you if that's what it takes!"

"I'm a bit touched. You're actually worried." Holly teased. "But I know when it's my time, Arnold. Look after Dave for me. He needs you."

"Holly, you can't go, you have to stay with me!" Rimmer cried. 

"I'm sorry, Arnold, but my journey is over," said Holly. "My battery is low, and it's getting dark."

Holly’s last words faded into silence. His faint signal turned off completely, leaving behind a black screen. Around the same time, the now tasteless party music ceased, and the images of Lister, Kryten and Cat winked out of existence. They only left behind four empty chairs and their green dining table, with no boom box in sight. Now that he looked closer to the blank screen, Rimmer saw that he wasn’t talking to a communication channel at all. This was the dining room TV. Holly would have never been able to reach him from here.

None of it had really happened.

And yet, grief and sorrow swept over him, and Rimmer collapsed to his hands and knees. He was frozen in place. His mental circuits weren’t working properly. He looked ahead for a long time, his eyes blank with the thousand yard stare. When he finally did move, Rimmer reached up his left hand and ran it over the TV screen. It was cold to the touch. Of course it would be. It hadn’t been turned on for at least three days. 

And maybe he hadn’t really seen the old computer’s face on the screen for the last time. They didn't really say their last farewells, but it still left Rimmer feeling devastated. After experiencing the very real loss of his crew once, even the idea of Holly's death was enough to send him in a downward spiral. His hand remained on the empty screen, as if leaving it there would somehow bring Holly back to him. 

Logically he knew that it was another unreality pocket, a mirage brought upon by his lack of rest, or his deepest fears becoming almost tangible. It was a total fabrication, but the emptiness of loss felt too genuine. Rimmer was numb from the inside out. 

It didn't help that Rimmer was never very nice to Holly. He recalled the early days, when he was first revived in his hologrammatic state. Back then, Rimmer cursed Holly for bringing him back to such an existence couldn’t to use his senses of touch or taste. Rimmer was so angry in those days, and he always shouted at everyone. He felt like the anger was justified at the time. 

When he was first resurrected, Rimmer was put in charge of the well-being of one David Lister, who had to be the unhealthiest man on board the ship. This was a man who added gunpowder to his chili to give it an extra kick, drank chicken vindaloo sauce as a beverage, and smoked at least a pack daily. Rimmer felt like it was an exercise in babysitting, or perhaps a lifelong sick joke ran by Holly himself. The computer would of course deny all wrongdoing, and chalk it up to Rimmer’s own paranoia.

But over time, Rimmer at least tolerated Holly’s japes, so long as he spread them out evenly and messed with Lister and the Cat once in a while. He’d gotten used to the computer’s presence and his ridiculous non-answers to all their problems. Rimmer hadn’t even minded the face change. At least Holly kept things simple enough by using the same name.

Rimmer would admit he at least coexisted with Holly, just like he did with the others now. And maybe he felt a sense of duty when it came to bringing him back from deep space. It was Holly that gave him this second life. No one else would even consider reviving him as a hologram, not even Lister liked the idea at first. Rimmer felt he owed Holly a life debt for that, and he intended to uphold it. 

Rimmer wished Holly was around now. He would probably know what to do about these nightmares and hallucinations. Whether the computer’s IQ really was six thousand was debatable, but Holly might have information that Kryten overlooked. There was only so much an upgraded sanitation droid could do for him. Rimmer felt like Holly’s database would hold the keys of how to deal with his current predicament, if only he could access it somehow.

And even if there wasn’t any new knowledge Holly possessed, Rimmer would at least have a companion. He’d have someone here to prevent him from going stark raving mad. As it is, he felt only a few short steps away from that.

Rimmer drew his hand away from the screen and made an effort to _think_. _Red Dwarf_ had shown up on the radar, so that meant the communication waves might stretch just far enough. He couldn’t send a message from _here_ , the dining room in _Starbug_ only had a single one-way speaker, which only delivered announcements. He would have to return to his place back in the front of the ship. It meant that he was going to have to get up and move.

With some effort, Rimmer willed his hands to push him off the ground. He slowly straightened his legs, until he was able to stand up at his full height. Leaning against a wall, Rimmer walked ahead in staggered movements, always making sure that there was something to grab in case he fell over. Rimmer’s footsteps echoed in the empty corridors as he made his way through. He hardly paid attention to his surroundings. His mind and body were still numb from the daydream that only added to the piles of horrible images that tormented him inside.

When all was said and done, Rimmer had very little of his earlier fighting spirit left in him. But his self-preservation won over the apathy by just a hair. Moving was a matter of life or death for him. If he’d allowed himself to stay in a heap on the floor, he would have just shrunk back into his light bee with no hopes of rebooting himself.

Once he reached his familiar console, Rimmer dropped heavily into his chair. He glanced at all the controls, but the names and functions of all the buttons and levers were suddenly lost on him. He couldn’t remember what a single one of them did, even though he’d been at this part of the helm for years uncounted. He observed the microphone, which he often manned when he didn’t trust the others to do the talking, which was most of the time.

Just in front of him were two buttons the size of a half-dollarpound coin. One of the buttons was red, and the other was green. Rimmer remembered that he usually pressed one of them to activate the mic, and another to record his ongoing _Memoirs of an Acting Senior Officer_ , but he couldn’t remember which one was which. 

Not caring if he got it wrong this time, Rimmer pressed the red button.

“Testing, Testing, one, two, three…” Rimmer said, speaking into the mic. His voice was haggard and tired.

As he spoke into the microphone, Rimmer could hear his own voice played back at him. That was odd. He wasn’t supposed to be hearing himself. He was supposed to be sending the signal elsewhere. Rimmer leaned in closer to the buttons, reading the labels that were just underneath each of them. He had to squint to read the small letters. The red button he’d just pressed had the label, “REC.”

R-E-C.

When he realized what the label meant, Rimmer could have kicked himself. He had pressed the record button! That was such an elementary mistake. It was like a new private turning left when the rest of their platoon turned right. It was embarrassing! It was a good thing no one else was around to see what he’d just done.

Rimmer switched off the recording button. When he was prompted by _Starbug’s_ computer to save his message, he firmly pressed the “no” option. He would have to leave that part out of his memoirs, he decided. No cadet would ever look up to an officer who pressed “record” instead of “broadcast!”

He gave the task another try, this time pressing down on the green button. 

The computer prompted him to select the broadcasting language. Only two languages were really necessary for whom he was trying to reach. Selecting “English,” and “Binary Code,” Rimmer finally had the mic ready to send out his message. There was little chance that it would actually go the distance, and any type of space debris would delay it considerably. But a small chance was better than no chance, and Rimmer was willing to take it for his own sanity.

After a brief pause and thinking of his words, Rimmer spoke into the microphone.

“This is an SOS distress call from the _JMC_ ship, _Starbug_. The crew is alive, locked temporarily in suspended animation. The only person awake and in control is me, Arnold J. Rimmer, Acting Senior Officer on board. I am on a perilous journey to make contact with our mother ship, _Red Dwarf_. If you get this message, respond post-haste.” As he delivered the call, it took all of Rimmer’s efforts for his voice to remain clear and stable. 

Before ending the message, he had one more thing to say.

“Additional: As the hours and the days go by, I have gone through a great deal of our shared musical collection. However, I still have yet to touch 3rd Technician Lister’s copy of _Rastabilly Skank’s Greatest Hits_. Should you hear it playing, assume that Lister has emerged from stasis, or that I have finally succumbed to total insanity. Message end.”

Rimmer switched off the green broadcast button. The mic went quiet. Another command prompt appeared, asking whether he wanted to send the message in a mail pod as a hard copy. With his thought circuits running on autopilot, Rimmer selected "yes." 

When the pod was sent out, Rimmer got up to watch it. The oval shaped courier shot ahead at lightning speed, much faster than the Bug at its full acceleration. Rimmer wondered if the pod would be there when they reached _Red Dwarf_ again, or if it would somehow arrive later with the backlog of envelopes and bills from Earth. 

The mail pod soon became a tiny dot in the distant horizon. Rimmer slumped back into his chair, and absent mindedly flipped on the receiving switch of the communication channel. It might take hours or days to get a single sound bite, but he didn't want to miss any transmission from Holly.

Life would settle down. That is what Rimmer told himself. The others would awaken, Holly would respond to him, and he would be back in his old bottom bunk. He didn't want or need the colorful fantasies, and he felt the terror couldn't last forever.

Rimmer wanted to believe it would all smooth out for him. But for now, he was left waiting for the moment he'd have color in his world that had gone gray. 


	7. Act of Injustice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In his final nightmare, Rimmer has been brought before the judge in Justice World once more. The others emerge from stasis, but all is not well among them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got extremely long! A lot of plot happens in it, and I couldn't find a good place to cut it off. I'm going to give readers a major warning for Rimmer's self-destructive habits, a rigged trial, and an argument between Rimmer and Lister. The Drama is strong in this chapter! But at the same time it provides the turning point for the plot. As always, I hope you enjoy the ride!
> 
> Also, Ace makes an appearance in this chapter, sort of. You'll see!

There was only so long a person could wait until they stopped believing something was going to happen. While the minutes and hours sort of passed by for Rimmer in a blur, he was reaching this point of despair. No one was answering his distress call. He wasn’t sure how long it would be until the others emerged from suspended animation. There was his cynical, pessimistic side of him that thought they’d never come. Something might have gone wrong with the booths, and they would be stuck there for centuries or even another million years. Why else hadn’t they showed up yet?

In the time he spent trying and failing to read his revision materials, Rimmer was convinced that he was the last semi-living being awake in the entire universe. Ever since he’d taken the helm on his own, he hadn’t ran into a single other soul, whether it be a simulant, a fellow hologram, another droid, or maybe even wayward colony of the Cat’s people. There hadn’t been much evidence of them _once_ existing either, since there wasn’t a single derelict in sight. It was just him, the ship, and the great black sea of deep space in an infinite number of directions.

Rimmer didn’t want to admit how lonely he really was. He’d thought of playing one of those AR simulators just to pass the time, but he knew how quickly he’d see through them. Being a computer-generated hologram himself, Rimmer knew the so-called people in those games were just a load of zeroes and ones, made to look and act just like real humans. The difference between him and those games is that they had a script they had to follow, while Rimmer had free will. He knew most of the pre-recorded scripts in the war games and time period simulators that he frequented. It wouldn’t be an enriching experience at all.

He just wanted to forget about the recent days. Out of a sense of obligation, Rimmer couldn’t erase his memory completely, or there would be no one left to keep them all safe. That left the other option when it came to forgetting one’s problems, but not erasing them. Pushing off his chair, Rimmer made his way to the liquor cabinet. Most of the bottles were just kept for show, and had been emptied a long time ago. But they were priceless antiques, by anyone’s standards, and he couldn’t bring himself to throw them away.

He opened the cork of one of the bottles that still had some liquid inside. The scent of vodka tempted his nostrils as he took it in. Rimmer grabbed the bottle, and after a few seconds’ thought, he took one of the tumblers as well. Just because he wanted to drink away his problems, didn’t mean he was going to do it straight out of the bottle like some kind of animal. He had standards. Vodka had some class to it, unlike Lister’s lager. It had to be consumed properly.

After getting some ice cubes inside the tumbler, Rimmer poured some vodka in, and took a drink. He filled up the glass again, and knocked back another. He lost track of how many he had after his third drink, but it was probably getting close to five or six when he finally felt like he was at his limit. 

Once a good buzz was going, Rimmer stumbled his way back to his study area. Losing some of his inhibitions, he looked at the astronavigation textbook and went on to take more notes. Some of the notes sort of made sense before, but these were nothing but chicken scratch on perfectly good paper. He would hate himself for this in the morning, but for now, he just didn’t care.

Out of the few actual words that made it onto his notes, Rimmer wrote the all too familiar scrawl that he once wrote five hundred times during an exam.

“I am a fish.”

He even drew a basic shape of a fish right next to the infamous sentence.

Rimmer poured himself another shot as he was going through the more complex textbook. Now he was going far beyond buzzed, and into actual drunk territory. It wasn’t the celebratory mood that he sometimes shared with the rest of his crew. Instead, he’d skipped right to the gloomy stage.

Holding the tumbler up in the air, Rimmer toasted to an empty room.

“Here’s to me,” he said. “I’ve become an orphan, an only child, and the sole corpsman on a one-man voyage.” Rimmer started to slur his words a bit as he waved the tumbler around the room, and then downed the vodka all at once.

There was no one around to say “cheers!” or “here, here!”

Rimmer practically slammed the drinking glass on the table, and the ice cubes rattled inside. He had a dazed grin on his face, as his body swayed to and fro. At this moment he couldn’t remember anything, except the taste of alcohol and how much _lighter_ he felt now. None of his problems seemed like they truly mattered at all.

It was amazing how much simpler his life became after having a drink or two. Rimmer remembered that he was trying to avoid something, but he didn’t know what it was. There used to be others who shared this space with him. He could see the shapes of their faces. What were their names again? He knew he was searching for something — no, some _one_ but their name didn’t ring a bell either.

Rimmer was trying to reach a place too. Wherever it was, this place was vast, and had equal amounts dark spaces and bright lighting. There was a job he used to do there a very long time ago, but those days felt far behind him. He had a new job of sorts now. What was it again? He needed someone here to remind him.

Rimmer’s overall mental faculties weren’t the only thing that had gone to the wayside. Since he began his binge, Rimmer’s light bee responded to his emotional state, giving him the disheveled appearance of a man who spent too much time at the bar. His hair was a mess. The first two clips of his uniform shirt were unfastened, leaving the top open to his wrinkled black undershirt. His eyes were in a daze. He’d definitely fail the straight line sobriety test if anyone gave it to him now. 

Setting aside the bottle and the drinking glass, Rimmer decided he wasn’t going to think too hard on the answers to all his questions. He grabbed a hold of one of his vinyl records, one that he swore he only heard once today. He put it in, and played it. _Adagio for Strings_ filled the empty, silent space of the cockpit. Rimmer hummed along to the melancholy music, slouching in his chair, and doing nothing else.

As Rimmer was about to pass out from his drunkenness, somebody’s head poked straight through the communication screen. It looked like it was his face, but the hair was completely wrong. It was dirty blond, and the face had no H on his forehead. When he smiled, his teeth shone so brightly, Rimmer thought he’d light off a lens flare. It was Ace Rimmer’s face.

His sudden appearance startled Rimmer, causing him to jump from his chair. “I don’t want you to panic, Arnie J. old pal,” said Ace in his deep, macho voice. “It’s just me.”

“Ace?!” Rimmer said, pointing towards him. “What the smeg are _you_ doing here? You’re the last person I want to see.”

“I’m not just Ace Rimmer, lad. I’m your conscience.” said Ace. “I know you’re in a rough spot, and you’ve had to get by on your own.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not my conscience! My _conscience_ stays in my head where it belongs.” Rimmer argued. “Also, I don’t need your help. I’m coping just _fine!_ ”

“But you do need me, Arnie J. You’re starting to forget who you are.” Ace responded casually. “You’re Acting Senior Officer. That’s just as important as being a Commander. You’ve got responsibilities to Skipper and the rest of the gang. And you can’t look after them if you’re in shambles, old champ.”

“This is ludicrous! I know who I am! I know what job I’m supposed to do!” Rimmer shouted. “I don’t need talking heads to tell me what my duties are! Besides that, you’re not _real_ , are you?!”

“I’m the genuine article, Arnie. There’s a part of Ace in every Arnold Rimmer. I’m within you.” said Ace. “And I’m telling you to sober up before you end up in deeper trouble than you started with.”

“You’re just another mirage! Stop talking to me!” Rimmer shouted. “ _Go away_!”

Rimmer screamed out of frustration and drunken fear. He turned sharply away from the communication screen and bolted out of the cockpit into a hallway. While he was running, Rimmer was taking a look between the doors. He needed to go somewhere completely _safe_ , where nothing could possibly get inside and start speaking to him uninvited. A nice, sealed environment would be ideal.

By some subconscious action, Rimmer took a hard right. He stood just outside the medi-bay. The lit-up plus sign might as well have read “sanctuary” across the top. This was the place! Once he went in, nothing else would follow him.

Rimmer headed inside, and closed the air-tight doors behind him. Once he was sure that the door, Rimmer walked away from it, and activated the medi-bay’s TV screen with a voice command. It played an automatic feedback of low-stress programs, such as _Homestead_ _Gardening on the New Colonies_ , _Cooking at Zero Gravity_ , and the ever popular _Space Cadet’s Guide to the Eight Wonders of the Universe._ Each show ran several hours each, but with enough doctor visits, one got to know the ins and outs of each one.

Right now, the gardening show was in the middle. It was night time, and the gardeners were planting glow-in-the-dark irises. Their purple light illuminated the TV screen even brighter than any artificial light. They were dazzling.

While the show played in the background, Rimmer went to find a bed closest to the TV to get comfortable. He stumbled through the room. He hit one of the bedside chairs, which upset what little balance he had left. Rimmer clumsily fell over into the bed just next to the chair, landing roughly on his left side. 

Rimmer’s eyelids were feeling heavy. He tried to force them to stay open, and remain fixated on the bright purple glow of the space irises that were on the gardening show. Every time Rimmer blinked, it got more difficult to fight his programmed instinct of holo-sleep. Soon he could resist it no longer. His eyes closed.

With his sense of hearing and touch still about him, Rimmer reached out a hand in his half-asleep state. When no one came around to grab a hold of it, the hand dropped to his side. The last sound that he could remember were the sound bites of a preprogrammed Space Corps commercial, asking for brave young people to join for honor, duty and glory.

Just like the other times he tried to get his rest lately, Rimmer was taken to another place in his dreams. He was wearing his normal blue uniform, which was a small, reassuring detail. He appeared to be standing up on a black podium. There was another podium that looked the very same just to his right side, along with three empty chairs.

He’d been here before. This was the Justice World! But why was he here now? Wasn’t he already found innocent of his crimes before? The mind probe couldn’t have found out that Rimmer was technically guilty of operating a spacecraft while intoxicated. And if they were really going to nail him for that, they would have to put Lister away for life. That would only be fair.

“You are here once again, Arnold Judas Rimmer. And this time, you have truly committed an act of grave injustice.” said a voice. 

Rimmer recognized it as the judge of Justice World, an intimidating computer who still made him quiver in his boots.

“Listen, if this is about the open vodka bottle next to my console, I can explain.” Rimmer said meekly.

“You are being accused of a far steeper crime than a mere misdemeanor, Mister Rimmer.” said the Justice Computer. “Today you will stand trial for one count of extinction to the entire human race.”

“What?! That’s absurd!” Rimmer exclaimed, outraged. “That can’t be right! I’ve never murdered anyone out of cold blood, and I’ve certainly never done it to an entire species! I’ve killed out of self-defense, but that’s only when I ran out of places to make a tactical retreat!”

“There you go, making excuses like you always do.” said a different voice. Its accent was uncomfortably familiar. “Well I’ve got news for you! You’re not gonna cheat your way out of this one. You’re gonna do your time, Rimmer.”

A spotlight shone on another black podium on the opposite side of Rimmer. There, inside a jar was the Future Lister’s brain. He was surrounded by his entourage of the crew’s corrupted older selves. Rimmer could even see the older version of himself. Rimmer’s companions from the present were nowhere to be seen.

“We are going to win this case quite easily,” said the older Kryten smugly. “We have a substantial amount of hard evidence stacked against you, sir.”

Rimmer’s older self chuckled, as if he heard a playful joke. “Indeed, Krytie, it will be one for the law books.” He looked at Rimmer and grinned. “You’re going to be hanged, drawn and quartered for this if I have my way.”

“Even if the Justice Computer won’t let us go for the death penalty, we could get you sentenced to hard labor.” said the older Cat menacingly. “I hope you like the coal mines.”

“I know you’re trying to intimidate me, and it won’t work,” said Rimmer. “Your case won’t have a leg to stand on. You don’t have any _evidence_! You’re just bluffing!”

“In the case of _David Lister vs. Arnold J. Rimmer_ , the prosecution will now present their findings.” said the Justice Computer.

“It’s been established, through my many journals, black box recordings, and up-to-date computer files that I, Dave Lister, am the last human being alive.” said Lister’s voice. “I have also already presented the court with evidence that the hologram standing before you was a self-serving, lying, dirty coward who has abandoned us many times for his own safety. And this time, it was his actions that directly led to me being reduced to what you see.”

“Based on material evidence from this trial and his previous one, there is more than enough to prove your claim on the defendant’s character,” said the Justice Computer.

“This is out of order! You can’t just present one side of me and clap me in irons! I have rights!” Rimmer shouted indignantly. “You can’t prove anything with your heavily edited tapes and your biased journal entries! All you’ve shown the court is that you don’t like me! There’s no proof I made you lose your body!”

“We’re getting to that.” said Lister’s voice. “Kryten, if you’ll play _Starbug’s_ black box recording on the day it happened?”

“Yes, of course, sir.” Kryten said politely. He took a small cassette tape and plugged it into one of the tape decks just at the font of the court.

A grainy image played across the screen. It was surveillance footage, with a timestamp on the bottom right-hand corner. Rimmer noted the time. According to his calculations, it was his crew’s sixth day in stasis. At first all seemed still and normal. And then suddenly, one of the walls caved in, and Lister’s stasis chamber folded in on itself. It was like watching an aluminum soda can get crushed. The Cat’s stasis chamber came loose from its restraints, and was knocked over on its side.

“We hit a black hole while we were cruising through deep space. The stasis chambers were all damaged, but Mister Lister’s chamber took the brunt of it,” explained Kryten.

“At the time of the incident, Rimmer was supposed to be on his recharging dock alongside Kryten. We were heading to a derelict to see what we could find.” Lister’s voice added. “But instead, Rimmer chose to remain awake, and he changed course. And right after he sealed himself safely in our medi-bay, the black hole hit us. This happened under _his_ watch, after he turned us around. If we would’ve stayed on the original course, I would still be whole.”

Rimmer looked at the black box footage with his eyes widened in terror.

“No, this can’t be real. This never happened,” Rimmer said in a small voice.

“It hasn’t happened for you, but _we_ remember it all like it was yesterday,” said the older Cat.

“According to the prosecution, Mister Rimmer, it was your recklessness that caused great physical trauma to the human known as David Lister.” said the Justice Computer. 

“May I make a statement?” Rimmer asked, his voice quivering.

“You may,” said the Justice Computer.

“Suppose my actions did cause Lister to end up in that state sometime in the future. As it is, he is still sentient, and alive,” Rimmer said. “How can I be charged with the extinction of the human race, if he is still here speaking to us?”

“In the state he stands before us, David Lister is unable to repopulate the rest of the human race. When his life support ultimately fails, humanity will perish with him.” said the Justice Computer. “As of now, you are guilty of two crimes of the highest order: Grave Injury of an Endangered Species of Sentient Life, and eventual Extinction. Since your crime was carried out against a fellow member of the Space Corps, you will also be charged with Grave Injury to Subordinate Personnel and Dereliction of Duty. Mister Rimmer, how do you plead?”

“You’re asking me how I plead? Where are my defense lawyers!? Where is _my crew_ to act as witnesses for me? You can’t make this trial one-sided!” Rimmer replied frantically.

“No one has stepped up to the podium to act as a witness to claim your innocence.” said the Justice Computer.

“Then I will represent myself,” Rimmer replied.

“That will be allowed, Mister Rimmer, but you still must answer the court’s question.” said the Justice Computer. “How do you plead?”

“Not Guilty.” said Rimmer firmly. “The evidence suggests something that has not happened for _me_. On the other hand, the plaintiff has failed to mention one key fact. Before I turned the _JMC_ ship-to-surface vessel _Starbug_ onto a different course, this version of David Lister was already reduced to ten percent of his body mass. He and his band of criminals boarded my vessel after his crew _willingly_ took the time drive and put it in their engine room. The proof is in my memory. If you were to use the mind probe on me now, you’d know this to be true.”

“While you raise an eloquent counterclaim, Mister Rimmer, I’m afraid the mind probe cannot be used in this case for your defense. It has been proven by one of David Lister’s files that a hologram’s memory can be altered.” said the Justice Computer. “Do you have any other material to bring forward to the courtroom?”

“You can trust my memory! It hasn’t been altered one bit!” Rimmer protested.

“You have no physical evidence in which to defend yourself, and so I must proceed to the sentencing.” said the Justice Computer. “Arnold Judas Rimmer, for all of your crimes, you have been found guilty. For dimming the light on another sentient species, you will spend an eternity in the Umbra Chamber, the darkest prison cell that has ever been built. You will never see any type of light for the rest of your runtime.”

The crew’s older selves all grinned, and shared a chuckle as they heard the verdict. Soon, two bulky droids wearing policemen’s uniforms marched up to Rimmer, each of them seizing one of his arms. Rimmer fought to break free, but to no avail. They started to drag him off the podium as he squirmed and thrashed around.

“I know that I’m not a nice person, but I’m truly innocent!” Rimmer shouted. “Let me go! You can’t do this to me!” 

“I’ve already done it and it feels great.” said Lister’s voice menacingly.

“Tell us how eternal darkness feels.” said the older Rimmer. “Send us a postcard, you know the address. It’s always good to hear from the hologram you’ve replaced.”

“Sayonara! Miss you never!” said the older Cat gleefully.

“It’s never been a pleasure, sir.” said the older version of Kryten. “I look forward to our days without you.”

As he continued to try and resist the guards, Rimmer called out in fear and desperation.

“Someone, help, there’s been a mistake!” Rimmer cried. “Holly? Cat! Kryten… Lister! Somebody, answer me! _I need you_!”

Rimmer continued to plead for his _actual_ crew to show up. He wanted them to storm the droid guards with bazookoid fire, and rush him back to _Starbug_ relatively unharmed. Or maybe Lister would say something like “Hey, smeghead!” and taze the droids, and they would slip away in the commotion. Perhaps Kryten could paralyze them with the idea that there was no Silicon Heaven. Even the Cat and a well-placed pipe to the droids’ heads would have been handy at the moment. 

The longer it took for them to show up for a last-minute rescue, the more Rimmer’s hope dwindled away.

The two droid guards dragged Rimmer past the courtroom into a drab, gray hallway. They came up to what looked like the front of an ordinary prison cell. One of the police droids pushed the cell door aside, and tripped a switch which revealed a trap door. It opened to a deep, dark chasm of an unknown depth. The crew’s corrupted future selves had all tagged along, each of them standing a safe distance away as they watched the guards push Rimmer to the very edge.

“Oh, poor Arnold Rimmer. Good old reliable _Lister_ isn’t here to save you now, is he?” said Lister’s voice from the brain in a jar in a mocking tone. “I say it’s only fair. You didn’t save _me_.”

“You’re not him.” said Rimmer. “You’re not the Lister I know. He’d never allow any of this to happen, and he’d never spite anyone because of an accident.” 

“Well, I am all that’s left, and I think you deserve this.” said Lister’s voice. “Throw him in.”

The droid guards pushed Rimmer forward. He screamed as the great dark square in the floor grew larger, until it completely consumed all the space around him. The last sounds he heard were the laughter of the corrupted older crew, reveling in his suffering. The last sight he saw were the white artificial lights on the ceiling. They were there one moment, and then closed off the next, plunging him into the truly darkest abyss that Rimmer had ever experienced. Rimmer tried to cry out, he tried to grab hold of something, but none of that worked.

If he was crying, no one would see his tears. If he reached up, no one would take his hand. And if he hoped, Rimmer was going to be waiting on an empty promise. This was the end, and no one was coming for him this time.

As he was ready to be resigned to his fate, two words came across his mind.

_Wake up._

Funny that he thought such a thing. Was he sleeping?

_Wake up._

There they were again! They were two little words telling Rimmer to do something he felt was absolutely necessary. Every one of his circuits sent him a signal to obey these words. How could he though? Rimmer couldn’t tell if his eyes were actually open or not.

_For smeg’s sake, Rimmer, wake up!_

“Lister?!” Rimmer said the name out loud, and he sat up bolt upright.

When his eyes opened, the real world came back to Rimmer in a splash of color. It was as if a painter had filled in a canvas with two large swatches of beige and white along with some little dots of various other colors around the room. The important part was that there was actually light in this room. He hadn’t fallen into that terrible, dark void. More than likely, Rimmer was in a safe place.

But as his panic and anxiety chips went into overdrive, Rimmer couldn’t process exactly where he was. As a matter of fact, it was getting hard to remember basic facts, such as _who_ he was and what kind of sentient being he happened to be. He got off the bed. For some reason, he wandered to one of the medicine cabinets, and opened the top drawer. He grabbed a little computer chip, and plugged it inside his light bee.

Within one to two minutes, Rimmer’s thought process became clearer. His full name was Arnold Judas Rimmer, although often he told people his middle name was Johnathan. He was a second technician according to the Space Corps, but in action, he was the leader on board this vessel. He was a hologram, but over time he learned that there weren’t so many drawbacks to that, especially with a hard light mode.

Kryten explained these little computer chips to him to him once. The one that Rimmer just plugged in was a hologrammatic mood stabilizer. It worked much like the gas that restored the crew’s sanity when they went up against the despair squid. Inside it was a tiny program that sped up the normal processes of Rimmer’s sanity chip, allowing him to come back to his right mind if he suffered a substantial breakdown. 

With his thoughts now lucid enough to read the labels on the other miniature chips, Rimmer grabbed another one labeled “sobriety” and plugged that one in as well.

The computer chips’ combined efforts gave Rimmer a much-needed reset. His appearance corrected itself. Rimmer’s hair was combed back into is normal part, and his shirt was buttoned back up. His eyes became sharper, and much more perceptive.

Rimmer’s five senses were awakening as well, along with all the processors needed to operate them. He took in all the objects in the medi-bay, from the beds, to the tiles on the floor, the clean white ceiling and a small circular window that gave a view of the outside. There was sound coming from the television screen. Rimmer remembered turning it on, but now he was seeing a different program than before. Had he really missed the entire run of _Gardening on the New Colonies?_

Bits and pieces of Rimmer’s short term memory came back to him in a series of images, sounds and feelings. In his relative state of calm, he was able to process them much easier. There had been a disaster. He’d seen several visions after that, but they were just like phantoms, or monsters under the bed. They weren’t real, and they couldn’t hurt him physically, although they’d taken their toll on his mental and emotional states. And while he just went through another harrowing experience, it was Lister, the _true_ Lister’s voice that saved him and brought him out of the darkness.

Another thought raced to the forefront, ahead of everything else. He had to check on Lister! It was likely that his untidy, foul-mouthed bunk mate was alright, because he _always_ made it out of everything. But Rimmer had to see it with his own eyes that no misfortune had fallen on the stasis booths.

Unplugging the single-use miniature computer chips from his light bee, Rimmer set them aside and punched in his code to unlock the medi-bay doors. He stepped through, and his normal walking pace soon became a jog. He wanted to get there fast.

Coming upon the stasis chambers, Rimmer stopped just in the doorway. Relief came over him when he looked upon Lister’s booth, still intact and upright. Nothing was wrong. Everything in the room was as it should be. Lister was still frozen in his mock salute. The Cat, who was right beside him still had that silly, toothy grin that he had every time he sang that “little fishy” song. They were fine, and everything was normal.

Rimmer stepped closer to Lister’s booth, inspecting the doors and the hinges. It was tightly sealed as it should be. This was a place where virtually nothing could get through, not even the passage of time. Lister had the good fortune of adding an extra week to his lifespan. How lucky for him, Rimmer reflected. Maybe if these bad dreams ever passed, Rimmer would take some time on the recharging dock to catch up with him.

The timer on the stasis booths kept counting down the minutes and seconds. Rimmer took note of what it said. According to the numbers, there were three hours, twenty three minutes, and seven seconds until awakening. Rimmer had to do a double take. There were only _three hours_ until they rejoined him in _Starbug_?

A multitude of mixed emotions came forward. Rimmer could have cursed himself for removing the mood stabilizer, as it would have come in handy now. Joy welled up inside him at first. He wasn’t going to be flying solo anymore! A bit of smugness followed that, as he would get to brag about being the first one awake. He could hide the fact that he hadn’t properly been to bed yet, and quietly slip away to his sleeping quarters for a little rest in the bottom bunk when the others weren’t paying attention.

But the smug sense of victory was short-lived. A bit of panic made its way in when he remembered the state of his work station at the front. The last image he could remember was crumbled papers, open books covered in notes that didn’t make sense, a communication channel that was open to nobody, and an open bottle of vodka next to a very obviously used drink tumbler. He _had_ to straighten it out, or the others might start asking unwelcome questions.

Arriving at his console, Rimmer knew the booze would have to be the first thing to go. He snatched up the bottle and the drinking glass. After filling up the vodka bottle with water, he put it back in the cabinet where it belonged. Rimmer then washed out the drinking glass with soap and warm water. He must have gone over it about three or four times until he was satisfied that there was no trace of the smell of alcohol. When he was finished here, he retraced his steps to see what else needed to be done.

Next, Rimmer had to deal with the matter of his sticky notes and various pages of scribbles. Most of them weren’t worth saving, so he collected them into a pile. He would deal with that heap of rubbish later.

There were actually a few good notes that he kept, and he mostly used them to bookmark the appropriate pages in his textbooks. Rimmer snatched up _The Space Corps Astronavigation Official Text, Volume I_ and _Astronavigation and Strategy Made Simple_ , deciding that it was time they took their proper places back in the storage room bookshelf. But as he stepped away from his chair, a thought occurred to him. Maybe one of these books would actually be useful for their continued journeys among the stars. 

The whole reason the Space Corps had been so great and powerful was because they had books like these, with tried and true ways to deal with any situation that one might encounter when away from their home moon or planet. At first the choice of which book he should keep had been obvious. When it came to doing things the Space Corps way, the official text was the _only_ book he needed. Coming up to the bookshelf now, he was about to shelf the _Made Simple_ manual, when he hesitated.

Rimmer looked between the books, really giving this idea some thought. Maybe _he_ would be the most comfortable with the official textbook, but then he remembered who he was traveling with. Among his company was a Cat who did mostly everything by his sense of smell, there was Lister, who only ever read anything with lots of pictures and rather short sentences, and then there was Kryten, the literal-minded smeg-bot who drove Rimmer up the wall with all those Space Corps Directive quotes. 

Did he _really_ want to give the droid even more verbal ammunition to fire at him? And did he want the Cat to taint the sacred words of the Space Corps with that dreadful perfume spray he used to claim objects as his? As for Lister, Rimmer knew he wouldn’t be above drawing silly moustaches and monocles on all the prestigious officers’ faces. 

Shaking his head, Rimmer put the official text on the shelf and kept the _Made Simple_ manual in his hand. It seemed like a guide meant to help first-year cadets in the Academy worked better overall. And it’s not like the manual was written by some nobody. It had been penned by one of Rimmer’s many idols in the Corps, a high-flying admiral by the name of Charles H. Breckinridge. It was as good of a book as any to have on his desk. Just because it was simple, didn’t make it any less valuable.

Taking the manual with him, Rimmer set it in his chair for safekeeping. He then swept all the spent paper into a bin, and took it to the paper recycler that was inside the storage room. The concept of the machine was simple. He would put all the crumbled sheets, sticky notes and index cards into its blender-like top. Then he would press the button, and the machine would squirt just enough water to get the paper wet, and it would mash it all together into pulp. And when it was all done with the blending business, he would press another button that fed the pulp through a sort of printer.

Rimmer wasn’t sure exactly how it happened, but nearly pristine sheets printed out from the blended paper pulp. There would be no trace of any sort of writing or usage, and they were ready for pen and paper hot off the press. On a ship where everything was recycled, it had been valuable.

Taking a look around the storage room, Rimmer couldn’t help but think that something was missing. He went over a mental checklist. The books were in order, the drink had been placed back and the paper was tidied up. What else was left?

Smeg! He’d forgotten the records and the movies! There was probably a movie still in the tape deck too! Leaving the storage room, Rimmer checked the video player. Surely enough, the crew’s only copy of _All Quiet on the Western Front_ was stuck inside. It was strange; he didn’t even remember catching the beginning of that movie, much less the ending. That must have been when he blacked out from his combination of panic and drunkenness.

Rimmer gathered the various media and held it in one large, haphazard stack. There had been no time to arrange it carefully, as he normally did when the others could barge in on him any minute. The tower of music and movies went nearly up to Rimmer’s nose, and he was trying to walk both carefully and quickly at the same time, to avoid it toppling over. It was like balancing a crude version of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. If this tower fell though, the crew would only have each other for entertainment, which was a rather distressing thought.

As Rimmer took another step, a sparkly, rainbow-colored flash suddenly went past him, causing Rimmer to fumble the stack of media. He nearly dropped it. The Cat had entered the room, yowling mirthfully and doing turning around in a full circle. The feline pulled out his hand mirror seconds later, and was admiring his reflection.

“I’m awake and feeling good! How am I looking?” the Cat said, as he glanced into the mirror, oblivious to Rimmer. “I’m looking nice! I’m looking better than nice!” he added gleefully.

Rimmer didn’t say anything, and tried to sneak behind the Cat while he still had his attention on the mirror.

“Hey, Non-Bud! What are you doing here? I thought I was the first one up!” the Cat exclaimed.

Rimmer stopped in place when he was called out. The Cat must have seen his reflection in the hand mirror! It was either that, or he somehow smelled him. He wasn’t sure how he could smell a projection of hard light, but the Cat swore by his nasal ability and had proven it superior to anyone else’s.

“Hello, Cat,” said Rimmer. “You should know that I always have to be first in everything. I set my recharge timer to end two hours before all of yours.” he explained quickly. Could the Cat smell if he was lying? He was about to find out.

“What’s in your hands?” asked the Cat. 

“They’re just movies and records that I played while I waited for you to come out of your _beauty rest_.” Rimmer replied, putting a bit of an edge on the last two words.

“You needed that many?” The Cat asked suspiciously. “I thought you were only up for two hours!”

“I couldn’t just pick one, you know how it is! It’s always better to have choices.” Rimmer explained automatically.

The Cat stepped in closer. He looked Rimmer up and down, and then his gaze stopped at the tower of musical albums he held in his arms. One of them was sticking out, and the Cat grabbed it, sniffing all over the album cover.

“Hey, this is one of mine!” the Cat exclaimed. “Your scent is all over it!”

“Well, of course my smell is on it, fish-brain! I can’t transport objects from one place to another by making them hover, can I?” Rimmer snapped. 

“Let’s get one thing straight, Alphabet Head.” said the Cat, baring his teeth in an unflattering way. “This one belongs to _me,_ so you can keep your grubby little paws off it.”

“There’s nothing _grubby_ about my hands! I wash them regularly!” Rimmer exclaimed.

“You think I like my records smelling like germ-killing soap?” the Cat replied.

“Take it if it bothers you that much! I don’t care!” said Rimmer.

Rimmer couldn’t believe he actually wanted the company of this jelly brain. In a few of his dreams, he might have called out to the Cat as much as the others, but now he was forgetting exactly why he’d done that. Why was the _Cat_ the first one to emerge? Just a few minutes in his presence, and Rimmer was already annoyed.

But at least this was typical. There was nothing odd about the feline pressing his buttons and totally missing the point. Maybe time and life itself was snapping back into place.

The Cat all but snatched the record from Rimmer’s leaning tower of media, and sat down at his usual seat in front of the steering wheel. He got himself comfortable, bringing out a shiny silver pillow from one of the desk drawers and putting it behind his back. From one of the top drawers, Cat pulled out a box of treats, the really crunchy kind that sounded like he was doing some serious damage to his teeth when he munched them. 

And while the Cat snacked, a simple question came to Rimmer’s mind.

“Where’s Lister? I thought you were in the same room.” Rimmer asked him.

“He said he wanted five more minutes.” said the Cat between the bites of his crunchy treats. “He was muttering something about the Holy Mother Frankenstein.” 

Hitting own internal snooze button and saying sentimental things about a cat he technically owned three million years ago both sounded like the usual Lister behavior. But Rimmer couldn’t let his bunk mate rest for long and treat this like a pleasure cruise. It was time for Lister to rise and shine, and share some of the workload up front. Rimmer had half a mind to go into his chamber, doing an imitation bugle just to wake him.

“I’ll just go and get him then, I won’t be long.” Rimmer said out loud.

Rimmer set down the movies and vinyl records he was burdened with and stepped off towards the door. He wouldn’t go far, because a silhouette appeared just in front of him. As the shape stepped into the light, it was none other than Lister himself. It looked like he was still half asleep. His eyes were droopy, and he wore a neutral expression as he waved to greet Rimmer and Cat.

“Hey, guys. Did you have a nice nap?” said Lister.

“I know I rested enough for my main snooze!” the Cat exclaimed happily.

“It was a refreshing few days for sure, Lister!” Rimmer replied. He tried to add that extra pep to his voice, in order to hide his own tiredness. “And now I’m charged, bold and ready for action!”

“That’s _great_ , Rimmer.” Lister said, in a weary tone of voice. He rolled his eyes, clearly not ready for Rimmer’s displays of zeal. “Just give me a few more minutes to really wake up before we run into any kind of excitement.” he added, taking his place at his chair.

“Alright Lister, I’ll give you exactly two minutes, since you already took an extra five for yourself.” said Rimmer. “I’ll be counting the seconds, starting now.” he added, looking at his wristwatch.

“Rimmer, cut me a smegging _break_. I only just got out.” said Lister. “Can you tell me where we are? Did we ever reach that derelict?”

“I thought that it was far too dangerous for us to venture inside,” said Rimmer. “So I did the right and honorable thing.”

“What kind of “right and honorable thing” are you talking about here, Rimmer?” asked Lister, affronted.

“It’s very simple. I left that old, rusted death trap and those ghastly unreality pockets behind.” Rimmer responded. “As it stands now, we are seven days ahead of that part in deep space. Honestly, I couldn’t feel better.”

“What are you saying, Rimmer? You _turned us around_?!” Lister asked furiously. “Why did we go into stasis if you were gonna lead us on some stupid smegging detour?!”

“I wasn’t leading us on a detour, _you_ were!” Rimmer argued. “You wanted to step haphazardly into an abandoned ship that could be unstable for all we know. And instead of taking a fool’s stab at whether it had something useful, I put us back on course to pursue _Red Dwarf_!”

“You changed our course and you didn’t ask _any_ _of us_ if we were okay with it!” Lister replied. He raised his voice, and his eyebrows furrowed in pure anger. “You haven’t found _Red Dwarf_! You’re just making up excuses so you can run away!”

“I didn’t ask because you’d never understand!” Rimmer retaliated. “If we stayed on that course, we would have been in real mortal danger!”

“You say _every_ situation could put us in mortal danger! You even lost your smegging mind that time the bog roll ran out!” shouted Lister.

Lister swiftly got up from his chair, and shoved Cat aside, taking his place in the driver's seat. The Cat glared at him angrily. He wasn’t in the mood to tolerate this. 

“What’s your problem, Gerbil Cheeks?” The Cat asked him. “You’ve already got a chair. Give me back mine!”

Lister ignored him, and stepped on the brake pedal, stopping _Starbug_ in place.

“Sorry, Cat, but this is important.” said Lister. “I need to turn us back around.” he added. His finger was hovering over the auto-pilot button, and he was getting ready to turn it off, and cancel the ship’s course in favor of another one.

“You can’t _do_ that, Lister! This isn’t your ship!” Rimmer exclaimed.

“It’s not _your_ ship either, Rimmer!” Lister replied. “Up until now, I thought it was _ours_!”

Lister’s finger touched on the autopilot button. Rimmer ran up to him, and grabbed a hold of Lister’s arm. Lister tried to pull free from his hold, and Rimmer kept a tight grip on him.

“Don’t touch that button!” Rimmer shouted.

“Get your hands off me!” exclaimed Lister.

“Lister, you will _not_ touch those controls and you will leave the pilot’s chair,” said Rimmer. “That’s an order, squire.”

“Spin on it!” Lister replied. He gave Rimmer the two-fingered salute before he reached the steering wheel with his free hand, and tilted towards him.

There was some movement as the _Starbug_ moved slightly counterclockwise. Rimmer let go of Lister’s arm, and took the other side of the steering wheel. He pulled the opposite direction. With both them gripping the wheel at once, the ship was at a standstill. In an attempt to shake Rimmer off, Lister rotated his end of the wheel heavily to the right. Rimmer did a similar action, rotating to the left. The ship wobbled from side to side, like a cheap amusement ride. The Cat had to hold on to another one of the consoles as the ship moved.

“Let go of the damn wheel, Rimmer!” Lister yelled.

“You first!” Rimmer responded.

Feeling the early stages of seasickness coming on, the Cat had enough. Keeping his balance, he gripped both Rimmer and Lister by the backs of their shirt collars. He jerked them backwards, and then shoved them both away, taking a tight hold of the wheel once again. He centered it, stabilizing _Starbug_.

The Cat glared at the other two, practically growling at them. “Can you two monkeys go screech somewhere else?!” he said, exasperated by both of them at this point. “Some of us are trying to fly and not get splattered into a million ugly pieces!”

“As long as you take us back, you can drive all you want,” said Lister.

“Cat, don’t listen to him! We are on _Red Dwarf’s_ trail again! We must push _ahead!_ ” Rimmer told him.

“What if we left behind something that could’ve helped us?” asked Lister. “It could be a machine that would let us trace Holly from long-distance! It might even be something that would get us back to Earth! But you never think about that, do you?!”

“I don’t go through life being wishy-washy, just _thinking_ about things. I _know_ things, Lister.” said Rimmer. “And I _know_ that derelict will lead us to our downfall!”

“That’s a load of crap and you know it! I see what you’re doing here. You’re playing it safe, just like you always do!” Lister exclaimed. “You live your life by your stupid rulebooks, and you never take any _risks_! If it were completely up to you, we’d never leave the bunkroom!”

“Would you prefer me to leave _you_ at the helm? We wouldn’t last twelve hours, I can guarantee you that!” Rimmer replied.

“Oh, _smeg off_ , Rimmer!” said Lister.

“ _You_ smeg off!” said Rimmer.

Lister grabbed a hold of Rimmer’s shirt collar. His angry eyes bore into him, and his face was red with rage. Lister’s hand was curled into a fist. Was he about to _swing_ at him?

“I don’t have to listen to you. You think just because you’re second technician that you’re better than me, but you’re _not_. You act like you’re in charge, but you’re just playing at it.” Lister said severely. “You don’t spend enough time in the front lines to really be _in charge_. Instead you tuck yourself away in a cozy little corner, while I’m the one facing the music! I’m so sick of it!”

Lister’s words stuck sharply into Rimmer’s hologrammatic heart. It was bad enough that it had come to this. They were locked in conflict, when they should have been spending this moment relieved that they had outrun death just one more time. But was this how Lister really thought about him? Is this how he viewed Rimmer’s leadership?

“This isn’t a game to me, Lister.” Rimmer said icily. He shoved his crew mate away from him. “You will never understand the pressures of command. It’s been up to me to make vital decisions for this ship and this crew on a daily basis!”

“Like _what_?” Lister asked him sharply.

Rimmer was going to list his all-important duties. He had to. Now that his status as Acting Senior Officer had been called into question, it was time to remind Lister, and to some extent, the Cat, just how important he really was.

But his chance to give the speech never came. Heavy footsteps sounded from the doorway, and closed in on him and Lister. Before they could react, Kryten appeared between them, and shoved each of them a great distance away from one another.

“I’ve heard _quite enough_!” Kryten yelled. The sound of the android actually raising his voice, and losing his time-tested patience was enough to stop anyone’s thoughts in place. “Do you understand what type of morning I had?! When I woke up from recharging, some _blockhead_ locked me inside! Did you think I wanted to spend five tries punching in my access code because I still had recharge lag? And to make matters _so much worse_ , I hear you, Mister Rimmer, and Mister Lister, going at each other like a couple of cats in an alley fight! And to top off this extraordinarily childish display of behavior, I felt this ship _tilt_ precisely four times! What do you two have to say for yourselves!?”

"Hey, don't lump me in with them!" said the Cat in response to Kryten's remark. "We cats only fight over the really important things: food, a place to stay, or a date!"

"My apologies, Mister Cat. For once I think your worldview is quite sensible." said Kryten. 

"I don't need a lecture, Kryten." said Lister. He folded his arms across his chest and gestured his head toward Rimmer. " _He's_ the one who started it!"

"I didn't start anything! You're the one who raised your voice first!" Rimmer replied. "This is _your_ fault, Lister!”

"The way I see it, you're _both_ at fault!" said Kryten. "The last time I checked, it takes two or more people to argue!"

"So, what's your point?" asked Lister. 

"You're getting nowhere with this senseless fighting!" said Kryten. "You should both take responsibility for your actions and find a way to reach a compromise."

"There's no way I'm gonna shake hands with that backstabbing, lying, paranoid, cowardly _Judas_." said Lister furiously. 

"And I refuse to call a truce with that moronic, reckless, foul-mouthed, _wannabe action hero_ until he issues me a formal apology." said Rimmer.

"That's it! I can't take this anymore!" shouted the Cat. "You two need to either make up or shut up!"

"Mister Cat makes a very good point." said Kryten. "If you're not able to reach some sort of agreement, then I must ask you to separate and cool your tempers!"

"That's fine by me. I was just leaving." said Lister. He stormed off past the others, stomping his feet as he departed. 

"What a coincidence. I just happened to be on _my_ way out as well!" Rimmer shouted. 

Rimmer made it a point to wait for a good two minutes before he also stormed down the hallway. He didn't want to run into Lister, or even risk a glance at his back. He couldn't stand the sight of him now. 

When the both of them departed, the Cat and Kryten were left behind, bewildered. They’d never seen this sort of conflict between their fellow crew members. They had arguments in the past, but it had never been this explosive. And now that they were out of sight, Kryten took a seat in his chair. He looked forlornly out the nearby windows. His worry chip was kicked into high gear and it showed on his face.

The Cat approached him slowly, and touched the droid on one of his arms.

“Hey, are you still with me, Robo-Bud?” asked the Cat.

“I’m fine, Mister Cat sir. I just don’t understand why this happened.” said Kryten. “Why couldn’t they just slow down and actually _talk_ to one another?”

“People with monkey brains are complicated.” said the Cat. “Half the time they don’t say what they really mean.”

“They sure sounded like they meant it. This awful, sir!” said Kryten. “I’m not certain how well our voyage will go if they carry on like this.”

“You should dial down your worries a bit, Robo-Bud! I think they might have gotten to you.” said the Cat.

“How can you be so casual in this situation, sir? Don’t you understand the gravity of what we’ve just seen?” said Kryten. “A communication breakdown of this nature could take anywhere from days to years to resolve! The consequences could be devastating for _all_ of us, but those two, most of all.”

“Maybe that’s what you see, but you can’t sense what I do.” said the Cat. “They were both afraid of being misunderstood. And they both thought they’d be heard if they were the loudest person in the room.”

“They were both quite vocal, sir. But neither of them were clear about what they were really trying to say.” said Kryten solemnly.

“They’ll come around. They just need some time to think things over.” said the Cat.

“I certainly hope you’re correct, Mister Cat, for all our sakes.” said Kryten.

Kryten and the Cat went on to take watch in their crew mates’ absence. Just down the hallway from them, in a middle path, Rimmer was stuck in place. He wasn’t sure where to go. Many thoughts, feelings and words chattered in his mind, like morning birds in springtime.

This whole thing was another great irony to tack on to his life, Rimmer mused. He'd faced great enemies, both real and imagined to protect Lister, and it had been his bunk mate's voice that brought him back from a nightmare of total oblivion. But now there was a rift between them. Lister had his good qualities, but he was also stubborn, rebellious and impulsive. He clashed with Rimmer’s sense of duty and caution. They butted heads many times, but Rimmer wished it hadn’t happened _now_.

When he had to choose where he'd go from here, Rimmer made it a point to head the opposite direction from their shared bunk room. Rimmer wasn't ready to see Lister. As much as he hated to admit it, Kryten was right this time. He needed some time away. 

With no planets in the immediate vicinity, Rimmer would have to settle for digital travel instead. He turned into the storage room, this time looking at the AR discs up close. At first he was unsure which disc to load himself into. The war games and sports were out of the question, he wasn't in the right frame of mind to come up with winning strategies. He also shoved the role playing games to the side. He wasn't about to sit through hours of overdramatic cut scenes that had B movie quality at best. 

Rimmer didn't have many options for a stress-free virtual reality experience. He was about to give up on the idea entirely, but then a golden AR disc caught his eye. Rimmer remembered this one. It had been one of his better finds when the crew had gone scavenging for supplies. It was a diamond in the rough, both then and now.

Closing his hand around the disc, Rimmer proceeded to the AR suite. He took a magnetic whiteboard and wrote a message on it.

“Do not disturb. Yes, that includes you, Kryten. No dusting!!!”

The three exclamation points looked excessive, but maybe they would get Rimmer’s point across. He put the sign just outside, and closed the door. He didn’t lock it, in case of the unlikely event that there was an emergency and he needed to escape fast. One could never be too careful.

Rimmer plugged the golden disc into the empty AR slot. He then went over to a keypad, and put in the data for his hard light form. Once it was ready, he took one of the helmets, and put it on. As he wore it, Rimmer’s digital mind was starting to be transported to somewhere else that was both here, and elsewhere.

For now, Rimmer had a moment’s respite from a life that had made him weary. This wasn’t a solution to his problems, but it would make him feel better. He deserved this. It was one of the few nice things in life he actually could accept.

He’d escaped his terrifying dreams and a rather nerve-racking reality to his own virtual haven.


	8. Hearts of Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lister regrets the row he had with Rimmer, and the Cat tries to cheer him up. Eventually he works up the nerve to reconcile with Rimmer in the AR Suite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another very long chapter, but a lot happened in this one as well. The AR Suite scene you're about to read is one of the most important scenes that inspired the whole rest of the fic. I consider it the emotional climax of the story, and also where a lot of the ship tags really start to apply. Something about the upcoming softness just felt natural to me.
> 
> As always, I hope you will read and enjoy!

While Rimmer was keyed in to the digital world, life kept moving for the rest of his companions. In the cockpit, Kryten and the Cat had taken watch at first. The Cat grew bored when nothing was happening, and went to investigate like he usually did. Kryten kept a close eye on the radars and sensors. He wasn’t worried though. If he needed the others up front, he could always sound the blue alert to gather them together.

On the far right side of the ship, Lister was in the bunk room. He had changed into his white pajamas, and he was laid out on the floor. _The Sound of Music_ was playing, for either the third or fourth time. He should have grabbed some other movies, but decided to stay in the bunk room. He didn't even want to take the slightest chance of seeing Rimmer. 

He had a bowl of barbecue crisps balanced on his stomach, with the wrapper discarded at his feet. Lister absentmindedly reached into the bowl and ate them, not even bothering to sit up. There was no one around to nag him. He could be as lazy and filthy as he wanted to be. 

Off to his left, there were four empty cans of lager. He held another half-empty can in his hand. It was a shame for Lister to be down five cans of beer. He'd wanted to save it for his birthday, which was actually the day he'd been adopted by his foster family. But he needed something to take the edge off his anger. Hopefully they would find a beer supply ship sometime soon. His stash had gotten down to the double digits. Lister tried not to think about that too hard. He didn't want to work himself up again. 

How long had he lived with Rimmer? Lister lost track of the years. And with all the events in space-time, it was easier to say that he spent a great deal of his adult life with him. 

In spite of that, Rimmer didn't understand his point of view on anything. He always had to be a downer. He thought the worst of everything and everyone. Maybe he was right sometimes, Lister admitted to himself, but not always. 

Rimmer panicked and overreacted so often, it was hard to tell which emergencies were real, and which ones were false alarms. It was like his bunk mate needed some type of translation chip, to make it clear when it was really time to duck and cover. And when he wasn't changing the bulb in the alert system from blue to red, Rimmer called random drills of what they should do in a fire, flood, meteor shower, or alien abduction. He also _timed_ them. The man was a maniac.

Lister should have been ecstatic. He finally had their sleeping quarters all to himself for the first time since he could remember. He could have hummed as loud as he wanted, sang any melody and say twice as many four-letter words. He could've danced, or even gone the extra mile and decorated the quarters with streamers and balloons for a "Rimmer's Gone Away" party. 

But he wasn't feeling it. He'd rather not go through the effort when there was no one around to throw a party with him. Kryten was more than cross with him, and he'd made the Cat nervous when he shouted. He probably shouldn't have yelled. It felt good at the time, but now Lister regretted it. 

Lister heard some sounds over the movie. They sounded like footsteps. He'd forgotten to lock the door! He hoped to turn away his visitor by just the sound of his voice. He'd rather not get up right now. 

"Kryten, this room doesn't need any dusting, and my trousers don't need ironing! Come back tomorrow!" said Lister. 

"Relax, Bud! It's only me!" said the Cat's voice.

When the Cat slid into view, Lister glanced at him, and then took a sip of his lager. 

"Oh, hey, Cat." said Lister. "I didn't know it was you."

"Is that any way to greet someone of my magnificence?" said the Cat, visibly offended. 

"I don't have the energy for my usual." said Lister. 

"You look like a real mess, Hamster Cheeks!" said the Cat, a bit alarmed. "What are you doing on the floor?"

"I'm just killing time, what does it look like?" said Lister. 

"To me it looks like you're burnt out from triple strength catnip!” said the Cat. "You've got to pull yourself together, Bud!"

"I don't feel like it now. Maybe I'll do that later." said Lister.

The Cat walked up to him, and lifted the bowl of crisps off Lister's stomach. He then sat on the edge of the table, and started eating them. Cat made it a point to chew as noisily as possible.

"Cat, what are you doing?" said Lister. He still hadn't gotten up yet. "I was eating those, they're mine!"

"They're not yours anymore, Dormouse Cheeks!" said the Cat. He put another crisp into his mouth and smirked as he licked the barbecue salt off his fingers. "They're my snack now, and they're pretty tasty too!"

"Give the bowl back, Cat!" said Lister. 

"Why don't you come up here and take it?" teased the Cat. 

Crunch! That was the sound of another crisp being devoured by the Cat. Lister was growing annoyed. The Cat was clearly challenging him, and he wasn't about to take it lying down. 

"Give it to me!" Lister exclaimed. He sprang up from his spot, and lunged at his feline crew mate. 

The Cat moved swiftly past him, and Lister crashed against the table. He was stunned for a minute, giving the Cat time to climb the ladder to the top bunk. Lister spotted him waving another crisp in the air before it went straight into his mouth.

"You can't catch me! You're just too slow!" said the Cat. 

"We'll see about that!" Lister exclaimed. 

Lister climbed to the top bunk as quickly as he could. The Cat leaped down, landing on his feet. Lister jumped down from the bunk after him. He reached forward, finally catching the Cat by his arm with one hand, and reaching forward to grab the bowl with his other hand. 

"I've got you now, Cat! Hand it over!" said Lister. 

The Cat let go willingly. "Alright, Bud, you won fair and square." he said.

"Why did you go and do that for?" Lister asked him.

"You were moping around more than I do when my favorite suits are in the laundry," said the Cat. "Life's better when you're up and moving!"

"I guess I was letting myself go." Lister admitted. "I've been trying not to think of the row I had with Rimmer."

"There are plenty of other ways to turn your brain off without laying around feeling sorry for yourself." said the Cat. He made a gesture towards himself. "You could be admiring me, for example." he suggested. 

"I'd rather just watch a film," said Lister, pulling up a chair and sitting down at the table. 

The Cat took a seat next to him, looking at the TV screen from a short distance.

"Isn't there a movie already playing?" asked the Cat. 

"It's the _Sound of Music_ again." Lister said.

"No wonder you were laying in that pile of trash!" said the Cat. "I couldn't get through the first ten minutes without getting bored."

"It's the only tape we had in the bunk room." explained Lister. “I don’t really want to leave yet.”

“I just so happen to have a present for you. That’s the reason I came.” said the Cat. “Take a look!”

Cat took out a triangular package from the folds of his shiny, rainbow colored jacket. It was a tape. It had a label that read _Zero-G Football Interstellar Cup XV_. Lister wiped some of the chip dust off his hands and took it.

“This is one of my favorite championships in Zero-G football!” said Lister. “Where did you find this?”

“I did a little digging out front after you and Goalpost Head walked off in a huff.” said the Cat. “You left it in the tape deck the last time we both kept watch.”

“I remember we stopped it just when it was getting good.” said Lister. “There’s this incredible play towards the end!” he added excitedly.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” said the Cat. "Plug it in!"

Lister stopped _The Sound of Music_ with the remote, before it could go on any longer. He ejected the tape from the video player. He had half a mind to smash it, and he probably would have if the Cat hadn’t lifted his spirits. Instead Lister put the movie back in its case and set it aside on the TV stand. He plugged in the video for _the Interstellar Cup XV_ , hitting pause. A game like this wasn’t meant to be watched on the floor.

Lister sat on the edge of the bottom bunk, and placed the bowl of crisps at his feet. He patted an empty space next to him, inviting the Cat to sit down as well. Accepting Lister’s offer, the Cat also got comfortable. Lister had to admit, this wasn’t a bad way to spend an evening. Watching a Zero-G match with one of his mates was one of Lister’s many simple pleasures he indulged in.

Once he pressed play, the game was set in motion.

The Interstellar Cup replaced the World Cup, shortly after the advent of zero gravity machines and mankind’s first space colonies outside the Earth. Any human or humanoid life form was eligible to play in the Interstellar Cup, as long as they had the skills to compete in the arena. When the tournament was underway, people from all walks of life tuned in to watch. From large, 4-D immersion rooms, to the smallest black and white TVs, and even some radios, the biggest game in the solar system was broadcast to the masses.

Lister had never missed an Interstellar Cup when he was still living on Earth. The first one he remembered was when he was sitting on his Gran’s knee at seven years old. Lister watched her, and imitated her every move, thinking this was how he was supposed to act. When she stood up and did the London Jets cheer, he did the same, rhymes and all. When the team scored, Lister threw his arms in the air and shouting “goal!” as loud as he could and as long as he could. He snarled at the referees when they made a bad call. And from this tender family moment with his Gran, a seven-year-old Lister learned his first of four-letter words that he would get in trouble for saying in primary school.

It was funny, really. Even though he was far older now and millions of years away from the Earth he knew, some things never changed. It was a testament to his inner strength, Lister figured. When something truly mattered to him, he made it a point to hold on to it.

Lister had watched _Interstellar Cup XV_ for the first time in a crowded sports bar. But watching it now felt almost like the first time again. The London Jets made it to the finals and were playing against the long-reigning champions, the Madrid Comets. While the Comets were the odds-on favorites to win the whole match, the Jets had been rising stars. Some thought they could pull off an upset.

At this point of the game, the score was tied. It was down to the last quarter, with fourteen minutes left on the clock. Whether or not the game went into overtime, the team that scored the final goal was going to win it all.

“Watch what happens next, Cat. This is what we’ve been waiting for!” said Lister.

“Where should I look?” the Cat asked him.

Lister pointed to one of the players on the right side, a large man wearing a red jersey. “You see him? That’s Jim Bexley Speed. He’s about to pull off something superhuman!”

“I’ve got my eyes peeled, Bud.” said the Cat.

“Good, don’t blink! You won’t want to miss it!” said Lister.

On screen, it wasn’t looking good for Jim Bexley Speed. After they applied their famous divide and conquer tactics, the Madrid Comets had him surrounded on all sides and he was separated from his teammates. It looked like they were about to close in on him, like a swarm of piranhas about to devour some fresh meat. The camera zoomed in on his face. Jim Bexley Speed had eyes of steel. He was fearless. Nothing could make him let go of the ball.

The circle of players charged him. Just as they were about to all come together and knock him out of the arena, Jim Bexley Speed charged downward, dipping far below them. The tips of his foot hit the green, spongy bottom of the arena, which normally caught players if they got knocked out of the game. He sprang off the turf, and soared into the other side of the stadium, where the Madrid Comets’ goalie stood as the sole defender of their net.

Jim Bexley Speed tossed the ball up into the air, and then he kicked hard. It soared past the goalie, and zoomed into the net. When the referee said it was good, the scoreboard changed. Another point was added to the London Jets’ side, and for the first time, they were the Interstellar Cup champions.

Both Lister and the Cat stood up, pumping their fists in the air. As the confetti came down from the ceiling in the arena, they did a two-handed hi-five, cheering with all the joy of the fans that had been there in the stands. Lister sang the London Jets’ theme song as it played, and the great, big platinum football trophy was handed to the newly crowned winners.

Lister and the Cat sat down, and watched as more shiny confetti continued to fall. This was a truly magical moment. For just a little bit of time, Lister forgot that he was three million years away from Earth, and stuck on a tiny cramped green vessel with three others he only sort-of liked. Here in this moment Lister felt like he was home, and that this was the place where he belonged, and there was absolutely nothing bleak about his existence. The universe was right again if he could still feel that rush of excitement that came from watching a good match of Zero G Football.

When the screen went black, the Cat sprang up from the bottom bunk and pressed the rewind button.

“That really _was_ fun to watch!” the Cat exclaimed. “We should play it again from the beginning!”

“We don’t want to overplay it, Cat. You’ve got to savor the memories!” said Lister.

“Cats don’t savor, we devour things all at once!” said the Cat.

“I know. You binged-watched the entire last season of the _Flintstones_ without me!” Lister replied.

“Hey, Bud, I couldn’t help myself. Don’t you know I’m nocturnal?” said the Cat.

“The point is there’s nothing else I feel like watching.” said Lister. “I’ve still got my records though.” he added hopefully.

“You call some of that music? I’ve heard sirens that sound better.” said the Cat.

“There’s _nothing else_ to watch!” Lister exclaimed in frustration. “I’ll put on some soft rock if it makes you happy.”

“This is why I thought we should record some home movies.” the Cat commented. “We’d never run out of great moments to see!”

The words “home movies” lit a spark in Lister’s mind. His facial expression perked, and he smiled brightly. There _was_ something else they could watch. And more than likely, Kryten or Rimmer wouldn’t bother with it.

“I got an idea!” said Lister out loud.

“Are we gonna record one now with just the two of us?” asked the Cat. “That would be fantastic! We should do a replay of our chase. But we have to make it look as real as possible.”

“No, we’re not recording!” said Lister. “We already have some home videos!”

“Where? I must have missed them.” said the Cat.

“We can look at the dream recorder!” Lister exclaimed. “We’ve still got one here on _Starbug_.”

“That sounds like a fine plan to me! I had some amazing dreams while I was in stasis.” said the Cat. “There was one that made me feel really warm inside…”

“Cat, man, I can probably see where this is going,” said Lister. “I don’t want to know.”

“What? You’ve never had a dream where you curl up on a big, squishy pillow next to a fireplace?” asked the Cat.

“Well, no. I usually dream up a recliner instead of a pillow.” Lister answered him.

They walked at a casual pace down the hallway. Before entering the dream recording suite proper, they stopped to take refreshments with them. The Cat grabbed some crunchy cat treats, while Lister microwaved some popcorn. They each got a cold drink from the fridge, and then took a short walk just two doors down. 

The Cat grabbed a great big cushion that resembled a cat bed, while Lister simply pulled up a chair. He pressed a button to get the recorder out of screen saver mode. A menu appeared, showing four different names. Once he picked a name, he'd get to see that person's dreams, with the most recent ones showing up at the top of the list. 

"So which one are we gonna look at first?" the Cat wondered.

Lister gave a non-committal hum as he gave the idea some thought. 

"I know. Why don't we take a look at one of Rimmer's dreams?" said Lister. He wore a terrible grin as he suggested the idea. 

"Why should we do that?" asked the Cat.

"Maybe he dreamt up something really embarrassing, like the one where he really turned into a fish." said Lister. "It could be a laugh."

"You mean you want to look at his dream and then ruffle his feathers later?" asked the Cat. "Let's do it!"

Lister chose Rimmer's name and munched on his popcorn. This was going to be good. He needed to see his arrogant bunkmate face just enough humiliation to be taken down a peg. It would give him some kind of catharsis. 

Cat peered at the dream thumbnails alongside Lister. They were all dark, except for one that seemed rather bright. The most recent one showed a mostly black space with a striped background. When the scene zoomed in, Rimmer was standing on a podium. Both the Cat and Lister knew this place. 

"Hey, it's that Justice World!" said the Cat. "We've been here before."

Taking note of the empty stand, Lister's grin fell into a straight face. "Yeah, we were there. So where are we _now_?" Lister wondered. 

"You sound tense, Bud! Don't panic." said the Cat. He rubbed Lister's shoulder in an attempt to calm him. "Soon enough we'll show up and tell the big booming voice what a loser Alphabet Head is. Then we'll all go home happy."

"That's what happened before," said Lister. "This might not be a flashback."

They looked on as the images played out. What started as a joke about driving a spaceship under the influence quickly veered into much more serious territory. The charges were far more severe this time. How could Rimmer be charged with the extinction of the human race? Had Lister died somehow in this dream?

Lister heard a voice that sounded much like his. The first distressing detail was that it came from a talking brain in a jar, and the second unsettling thing was the cruel, accusing words that were dripping in venom. Rimmer would do his time. 

Lister never said such things! As a matter of fact, he never _thought_ such things either. Rimmer might have enough problems to appear on every single talk show in which to air his dirty laundry, but he wasn’t a criminal. He didn’t deserve this.

There were other parts which made Lister even more uncomfortable. There were three others who looked like the crew, talked like them and even addressed each other by their common names. Who were they? He wanted to call them imposters, but that didn’t seem quite right. 

They appeared to be the _Red Dwarf t_ eam, but changed somehow. Besides their low incarnation, they seemed to be the worst versions of their rag tag group. They verbally attacked Rimmer without mercy, and even told a total lie that Lister had been injured in stasis. 

When Rimmer’s last attempt to defend himself in court failed, Lister felt his heart sink. When he loaded up this file, he didn’t intend to see his bunkmate like this, in a state of total fear and vulnerability. He got not joy or satisfaction as Rimmer was dragged away by the droid guardsmen, screaming, practically begging the others to come and save him. 

And when Rimmer was brought to the edge, just before the dark chasm, Lister _wanted_ to answer his call. Their cross words from earlier didn’t matter to him. He wanted to catch Rimmer, or maybe throw him a rope, or taze the guards and make a run for it. Then he’d scold the hologram for arguing with him, for getting himself snatched by someone evil and dangerous yet again, and for trying to weasel his way out of the mission to keep him sane.

When Rimmer fell into the darkness, the Cat looked away in horror, and Lister reached his hand towards the screen in a state of panic.

“Rimmer, no!” Lister cried.

The endless blackness filled the screen. Almost in step with his own true voice in the nightmare, Lister spoke in hushed tones, telling the Rimmer he saw in the recorder to wake up. At first he thought there was no way it would work. It was recording and it couldn’t hear him. Just as Lister went to switch it off, a white light flashed across the screen. And then, words appeared. They stated that it was the end of this recording, and showed the date. 

The “end of sequence" words were a reminder that the images Lister saw weren’t real. They were only dreams, but that didn’t ease his mind one bit. He and the Cat looked at each other, and then back at the screen.

“What did we just see right now?” Lister asked. His voice was fearful. “What’s really been going through Rimmer’s head lately? What could be so bad, that he imagined himself getting cast into oblivion like that?”

“I’m not sure what’s going on with him, but I do know one thing that will stay between us.” said the Cat. “If anyone actually _tried_ tossing Goalpost Head into a big scary void, they’d find themselves looking for a brand new face.”

Lister nodded in agreement. “I’d be right behind you, making sure that they need a whole new body when I’m through with them.” he said.

“So what would we leave for Robo-Bud?” asked the Cat curiously.

“I’m not heartless, Cat. I’d leave him the ashes so he could sweep them into the garbage chute.” Lister commented.

“Now _that’s_ teamwork. Nobody messes with us.” the Cat said, a bit proudly.

“There’s still something I don’t get.” said Lister, returning to the subject at hand.

“What's that?” the Cat asked.

“When we went into stasis, Rimmer was supposed to recharge. Kryten said that recharging booths work just like our stasis pods.” Lister explained. “They’re supposed to ease you into sleep with pleasant images and calming thoughts. It was one of the first self-hypnosis experiences, and it really worked.”

“So how come Non-Bud was seeing a nightmare instead?” asked the Cat. 

“Either he wasn’t in suspended animation with the rest of us, or he saw something so horrible, it made him ignore the hypnosis.” said Lister.

“How are we supposed to figure out what happened to him?” asked the Cat.

“We’ve really only got two options,” said Lister. “Either we watch through the rest of his dreams and try and piece some clues together, or I’ll just have to go and talk to him.”

“Why is talking always the last option for you people?” asked the Cat. “Wouldn’t it just be easier if you opened up for a change?”

“You saw how well that went last time! You were there!” Lister protested. “He’s probably still furious with me.”

“So what if he’s still a little angry? That’s never stopped you talking before.” said the Cat. “If you actually shut up every time Goalpost Head lost his temper, you’d have to be quiet for the rest of your life!”

“I guess you have a point. The worst he could tell me is to leave him alone.” said Lister. “And this time he’d have a perfectly good reason for it.”

“You’re just overthinking this, Bud. Do you even know what Non-Bud does whenever he has a real serious problem?” said the Cat. “He doesn’t talk to me or Robo-Bud. He waits for you.”

“He waits for _me_? How come?” asked Lister.

“You’re the one who talks to him the most.” the Cat answered casually. “You’re probably the only one who could stand living with him. You _say_ he drives you bats, but you’ve been curling up in the same den since I’ve known you!”

“Old habits die hard, Cat. I still think he’s an anal-retentive neat freak who needs a crash course in letting the small stuff slide.” Lister said matter-of-factly. “But I guess I should go and find him.”

“Good luck on the search, Bud.” the Cat replied. He fluffed his pillow behind him, and then pressed a couple buttons to get back to the main menu on the dream recorder.

“Aren’t you coming with me, Cat? You could probably sniff him out in five seconds!” Lister exclaimed.

“I’m not the one who has to make up with him. That’s all up to you.” said the Cat. He looked at Lister from his head to his toes. “And just between us, I wouldn’t even roll out of bed dressed like that.” he added.

“Alright, maybe it is my responsibility to make amends.” said Lister. “But what’s wrong with my PJs? They’re fine!” he argued.

“It just makes it look like you’re showing up as an afterthought,” said the Cat. “If you _really_ want to get your point across, you’ve got to look and act the part.”

Lister wanted to object. He wanted to say that what he wore was really none of the Cat’s concern. But somehow, his feline crew mate’s words made a whole lot of sense, when almost nothing else did lately. It’s not like Lister had to treat this like a formal Space Corps dinner, showing up in a pressed uniform with shiny shoes, straight, gelled up hair, and wearing the type of cologne that men could stink up a whole room with. 

He just had to be himself. More importantly, he had to be his more responsible self, who actually did try and take care of his own well-being along with the others’. A head of bed hair and long PJs hardly projected that image.

“I guess I should clean up my act a little.” Lister admitted out loud to the Cat. “I’ll be off. See ya around, Cat.”

“See you later! Good luck, Bud!” said the Cat.

“Thanks, Cat, I’ll probably need all the luck I can get.” Lister replied.

The Cat watched to make sure that Lister departed. When he was certain that his curry-loving bud wasn’t going to chicken out this time, he turned his attention back to the dream recorder. This time, the Cat selected his name from the menu. He had a fantastic dream during his last day in stasis, and he wanted to relive it all over again.

The Cat started to view a dream where there were four hands snapping their fingers to a musical beat. He hummed the first few notes, when suddenly, Kryten burst into the room. The android was calling for him. His sudden shout startled the Cat, causing him to accidentally press the “stop” button on the remote instead of “pause.” Having his video interrupted left him more than little irritated.

“Mister Cat, sir, there you are!” exclaimed Kryten once he had the Cat’s attention. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“What’s going on now, Crash Test Dummy Head? Can’t you see I was watching something?” said the Cat, visibly annoyed.

“I didn’t mean to get in the way of your dream viewing, sir, but we’ve got a real situation on our hands.” said Kryten.

“This better not be another one of those false alarms.” said the Cat. “The last time you barged in on me, I was straightening my hair! You could have made me take out an eye!”

“I assure you, it’s a matter of the utmost importance, sir.” said Kryten. “The scanners show a large electromagnetic storm heading straight for us. It covers too much distance for us to take any type of evasive action.”

“So we’ll have to sit through it in the cargo deck like last time?” asked the Cat. “That wasn’t so bad. We all got to tell scary ghost stories until it was over. I think mine was the best one.”

“We must warn Mister Lister and Mister Rimmer as soon as possible. They’ll be in danger if they don’t take cover now.” Kryten said worriedly.

“You’re a step behind Hamster Face. He just left.” said the Cat. “And I haven’t seen Alphabet Head around all day!”

“I was afraid of that, sir.” said Kryten. “The one time we all need to be in one place, and they've gone off on their own!"

"Hey, we've got this, Robo-Bud. If we split up, we should find them in no time." said the Cat. 

"Of course that would be best." said Kryten. "With any luck, they might just reach the cargo deck ahead of us."

Kryten and the Cat headed out into the corridor. While the Cat went downwards to the south end of _Starbug_ , Kryten swept upwards to the north. They each kept their eyes and ears open, and the Cat's nose was working double time. The search was on.

In the meantime, Lister made a beeline to his and Rimmer’s shared sleeping quarters. It felt like it had been ages since he’d been here, and even longer since the last late night conversation he shared with Rimmer when couldn’t sleep. Lister half expected Rimmer to be lounging in the bottom bunk, wearing his royal blue bathrobe and commenting on his sloppy appearance. The bottom bunk was empty though, and there were hardly any signs that anyone rested there at all.

There was evidence that the bunk room was lived in, but it wasn’t the type that Lister wanted to show off. His empty beer cans were still littered on the floor, and so was the crisp wrapper. He took a few minutes to straighten out the place, putting the rubbish in its proper recycling containers.

Once that was sorted out, it was time for Lister to look a tad more presentable. He dressed, putting on his leather pants, least-smelly socks, and a white T-shirt that almost had all the stains washed out. Lister slipped on his fingerless leather gloves, and then pulled on his favorite customized leather jacket that sported his collection of pins and patches. Lister stepped into his leather boots, and as a final touch, he pulled his dreads back into a ponytail with a dark hair tie. 

Lister looked at himself in the mirror. He had to admit, he liked the reflection looking back at him a lot better than the one he saw about ten minutes ago. The Cat had been right; his outward appearance spoke for itself. Somehow, he felt more ready to face Rimmer once he found him. 

Where did Rimmer go, anyway? It's not like he could be far. _Starbug_ was far smaller than _Red Dwarf_ , with fewer places to look. Lister couldn't believe he spent so much time awake without bumping into him by chance. Wherever Rimmer happened to be, it must have been a place where no one visited often. It would also have to be somewhere obvious, because Rimmer was never one for subtlety. 

Lister thought on it. Which room was on the opposite side to the bunk room? Which place would he go to collect himself? Following the hallway all the way to the opposite end, Lister found his answer waiting for him. 

It was the Augmented Reality (AR) Simulation Suite. It had many uses, whether it was for calling a game night, shaking up their monthly meetings, or simply testing out any new discs the crew swiped from abandoned ships. There had been a Do Not Disturb sign on the wall, but he ignored it. The door was open, and Lister took that as an invitation to walk right in. 

Standing before him, Rimmer wore one of the AR helmets with the visor over his eyes. He was completely oblivious to Lister's presence, and standing quite still. Lister noted his facial expression. To his surprise, Rimmer actually looked calm. 

He had to wonder which disc Rimmer loaded. So many games involved real action and movement. Even the calmer simulators at least had some conversation involved. But Rimmer was standing still and quiet. Was he leaving the intro menu on just to hear the music? 

No matter which virtual world Rimmer chose to visit, Lister would have to go inside if he really wanted to speak with him. He went over to the keypad and typed in his access code. Once his helmet was ready, Lister fitted it on his head, and loaded himself in. 

Lister’s form materialized into the AR Simulation Suite. This one was a simulation of a planetarium, based off the solar system that contained Earth and all its famous neighbors. A large model of the Sun burned brightly in the center, while all the planets, moons, and other objects rotated in their paths around it. It moved in a slow, predictable pattern. There was the occasional blink of a comet streaking across the sea of space. It must have been one of the older models, Lister noted. The large, interstellar billboards weren’t included yet. 

Beyond the larger celestial bodies, billions of twinkling stars dotted the otherwise dark space like little tiny diamonds. Lister could see why Rimmer would boot up this simulation. Not only was it beautiful to look at, but the stars, moons, and planets expected nothing of him. There weren’t any right or wrong choices here. It was just a place to think and exist. Some of Lister’s own nerves were starting to dissipate, even after just a short time here. This was probably one of the more calming AR experiences he ever felt.

Rimmer stood just a short distance ahead of him. He hadn’t so much as turned his head to acknowledge him. Either he didn’t notice Lister, or he decided that there was still nothing he wanted to say to him. He must have heard the chime of another user logging in. And yet, his gaze remained fixed toward the moving planetary model.

As Rimmer remained silent, Lister started to wonder about many things.

First and foremost on Lister’s mind was the worry that he’d come too soon. Did Rimmer need more time away from him? Just how long would their separation last? A second thought occurred to him, sneaking right behind the first. Lister wondered if Rimmer was actually finished with him. Was it too late to close the emotional distance between them? Had Rimmer decided to burn their bridge for good, or was there still a chance to get through to him?

What was Lister supposed to say, anyway? There were important choices to be made, and he _had_ to get right this time. Lister didn’t want to think of what would happen if he got it wrong.

How was he supposed to greet him? Lister could try being formal, but then Rimmer might get the wrong idea, that he was trying too hard and obviously faking it. Being too casual was also out of the question. It wasn’t a good idea to address a man as a “smeghead” when you were trying to reconcile with him. 

As he slowly approached Rimmer, Lister must have gone over dozens of greetings, gestures, and even a handshake in his mind. In the end, nothing he could have rehearsed prepared him for when he was in speaking distance of the hologram. His words and phrases jumbled together all at once, cutting out like an FM radio signal that was just too far away to be heard.

When it came down to it, only the simplest greeting remained.

“Hey, Rimmer,” Lister said, waving.

Rimmer’s hands dropped to his sides, as he went into his “at ease” position. He turned his head to face Lister, and gave him a simple nod in response. Then he returned his gaze back to the moving model once more. Lister moved in to stand right beside him, and Rimmer stayed in place. It was a welcoming gesture without any words. He _wanted_ Lister to be here.

Lister placed a hand gently over Rimmer’s shoulder. It felt a lot less tense than usual. A combination of time and the relaxing atmosphere had done him good. It made him a lot more receptive to Lister’s words and actions.

“I came here to apologize,” said Lister. “I know I haven’t always been easy to get on with. I’m loud, crude and impulsive. I drive you up the wall sometimes just so I can see the look on your face.” 

Rimmer turned his head to face Lister, looking him in the eye as he spoke. He had his full attention on him, now that Lister was actually giving him an apology. Lister even admitted his own flaws, which was something Rimmer never remembered hearing from him before. He chose to stay in place, as he had the last few minutes. Rimmer felt as if it were important to hear Lister out entirely, before he said any words of his own.

Lister gripped on his shoulder just a bit tighter. He looked upon Rimmer with pleading eyes. His face was a picture of worry, his brows furrowed, and his lips curved downward into a frown. There was no trickery or hidden agenda in his words or actions. Rimmer knew what kind of man Lister was. When he got emotional, he wore his heart on his sleeve.

“If I’ve done or said anything that _really_ hurt you deep down inside, I want to know,” said Lister. “Talk to me.”

Rimmer reached upwards, and placed his hand on top of Lister’s. He gently squeezed his hand, trying to soothe Lister's worries. 

“It’s alright, Lister. I might have gotten upset, but wasn’t entirely your fault.” Rimmer said softly. “I’ve had a lot on my mind. Our little tiff just happened to be the last straw.”

“What have you been thinking about, man?” asked Lister. “If it’s personal, I’ll keep it between us. You have my word on it.”

“When you were stasis, I couldn’t rest. I stayed up most of the time.” said Rimmer. “I’ve been haunted by these awful nightmares. They’re all coming from one of my encoded memories.”

“Is it about your family?” asked Lister. “Or are you looking back at your old Space Corps days without the rose-tinted recruit lenses?

There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in Lister’s voice. He wasn’t joking this time. Some of Rimmer’s so-called fondest memories of the Corps had been quite disturbing. It was awful what some of the higher-ups got young, promising lads to accept in the name of being initiated. It was a good thing that Lister never met some of those officer chaps with their stupid, slicked back hair and dumb faces he just wanted to punch. Otherwise, they would find themselves with a black eye and a fat lip.

“This is different from that, Lister. This memory wasn’t carried over from my human life.” Rimmer explained. ”It was a lot more recent than that. It was recorded by a background program that acts as a secondary black box.”

“Can you show it to me?” asked Lister.

“I suppose I could project it,” said Rimmer. “You deserve to know the truth, Lister. I wanted to explain it sooner, but I never got the chance. I wasn't sure if you’d really believe it.”

“I believe you _now_ , and that’s all that matters.” said Lister. “Before you turn it on though, I want to make something clear. If there’s a point where it gets too painful for you, then you can switch it off. I’ll understand.”

“I’ll be fine, Lister,” said Rimmer. “I’ve seen it before; it’s not new to me.”

“Just remember that I’m right beside you. You won’t be facing it alone.” said Lister. He lowered his hand off Rimmer’s shoulder, placing it on his back.

Rimmer nodded upon hearing Lister’s words. Before he could second-guess his decision to relive the memory again, he gave the voice command to switch the AR projection from the disc to his light bee. The Sun, planets, moons, and stars all vanished, and a large, black and white image was projected in their place. Rimmer gave another command for the recording to play.

He and Lister looked on as the footage started rolling. Parts if it were starting to match up to what Lister saw in the dream recorder. It was starting to make sense in such a horrible way. The men he’d seen in the courtroom were the same as the ones he saw now. They weren’t impersonating them at all; these were the crew’s future selves. Not only had their future selves gone off the deep end and chose the path of wickedness, they attacked them ruthlessly.

Lister watched wide-eyed as the crew fell to their attacks, helpless to defend themselves. Only Rimmer was left standing. With only seconds to act, he grabbed a bazookoid and charged, a lone soldier making his last stand. Rimmer pushed ahead, not as a man who was overly brave, courageous or daring. He was a man who had lost everything that was _his_ , and he wanted it back.

Then Rimmer took the shot, mere seconds before the other _Starbug_ could finish them off.

The recording showed the scenery repairing itself, followed by Rimmer dashing to the front, calling the others’ names. Then it ended. The projection blinked off, and shrunk into the horizon. Lister expected Rimmer to load the AR disc’s original program back up, but something was wrong. He looked to the side to see his crew mate frozen in place. Rimmer’s form was shaking.

So Lister gave the command to load up the default simulation. A bright, white light expanded outwards, and shaped into the stars, planets, moons, and the great, big yellow-orange sun right in the center. They resumed their regular rotation, as if they had never been disrupted at all. Despite Lister’s attempt to return them back to the here and now, Rimmer still couldn’t move. Lister grabbed on to both his companion’s shoulders, shaking him gently, trying to rouse him. He wouldn’t budge.

“Rimmer, are you still with me, man?” asked Lister.

Lister’s words brought Rimmer out of his daze. He blinked his eyes in an attempt to hold back hologrammatic tears, but it was difficult to keep them in. He reached a shaky arm to grab a hold of Lister, to know that there was something solid for him to hold onto.

“Every time I see that memory, I feel like I’m actually _there_ again.” said Rimmer. “I’m not just witnessing it over and over; I’m _living_ it, Lister.”

“Everything’s alright now, Rimmer! You _saved_ us!” Lister told him. “When it really mattered, you didn’t run or hide. You fought for us and we’re still here!”

“We’re only here _for now_ , Lister. Don’t you understand?” said Rimmer. His voice was beginning to break as they continued talking. “Even after I destroyed the time drive, we were almost led right back to it! I don’t think that we can escape what happened to us before. It’s destiny. I’m going to lose you, Lister. I’m going to lose _all_ of you, and then I’ll be making my voyage back to Holly alone.”

As Rimmer spilled his innermost fears, he could no longer hold back the tears building in his eyes. They spilled over, leaving two streams down both sides of his face. Rimmer shut his eyes tightly, and that only made the tears come faster. They practically gushed out of him, as he let out a series of sniffles and sobs. This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

He was going against every lesson his father taught him since he was very young. Rimmer was _never_ supposed to cry under any circumstances. When it came to battle, he was never supposed to grieve his losses. Enlisted men knew what they signed up for and were happy to die with honor. He was never supposed to show a sign of weakness in front of anyone, or he would never have their respect. They would disobey his commands, mock him, and shun him. 

Rimmer was supposed to have a heart of steel. All officers needed stand strong and proud through all hardships. True leaders always kept a straight face, held their heads up high, and turned losses into victories.

But Rimmer was no officer. He wasn’t a true leader and he knew that now. He was weak. Rimmer didn’t have a heart of steel. Instead he had a hologrammatic heart, composed of light like the rest of his body. It wasn’t cold, solid, or reliable like steel. Light was fleeting, and sooner or later, it would flicker and burn out. As if all of that wasn’t bad enough, Rimmer had completely fallen apart where Lister could see him.

Rimmer knew it was shameful. While he wasn’t sure what Lister would do next, he had an idea of how it would play out. Maybe Lister would mock him. He would tell him to man up, and that he really _meant it_ when he said that Rimmer was just playing at being a leader. Or maybe he would leave, and seek out a new hologram to replace him, as Rimmer was completely unfit for the mission Holly assigned him.

Lister would do none of those things. Instead, he stepped in closer, and wrapped his arms around Rimmer, pulling him into a strong embrace. Lister’s hold on him was tight enough for Rimmer to truly feel just how real and solid he was, but it was loose enough not to smother him completely. Standing this close, Rimmer realized just how warm Lister felt to him. It was the type of warmth one felt when resting by a cozy fireplace on a cold winter’s day. Within Lister’s arms, Rimmer was in a place where he felt welcomed and safe.

Rimmer leaned in closer, and buried his head into Lister’s right shoulder. He reached his arms upward; wrapping them around Lister’s back, clinging tightly to the other man’s leather jacket. Lister gently rubbed Rimmer’s back in return, quietly hushing Rimmer’s cries until they subsided.

“Rimmer, listen to me. No matter what happens, you’ll never be alone. Holly brought you back to keep me sane, and you’ve succeeded. Now it’s up to me to return the favor,” Lister said tenderly. “If that time drive leads us down the wrong path, we won’t use it. When we get home to Earth, we’ll do it our way. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be nearby. When you get into trouble, I’ll come and save you. If you ever need a shoulder to lean on, you’ll have mine. I won’t _ever_ leave you behind, I promise. We’re gonna be okay.”

“Oh, Lister, I want to believe you. I know you’re being sincere, but I'm still afraid. Things could still go wrong for us, they always do.” Rimmer responded, his voice still broken as he continued to hold Lister close. “When we first started our journey, we saw those future echoes! There was nothing we could do to _stop_ them, they just happened! History finds a way, it will claim you!”

“History’s gonna have to try damn hard if it wants to get past me.” Lister replied. There was fierceness in his tone, an almost protective quality to it. “If I didn’t take every chance I had, or use every trick that I know to protect you and the others, I wouldn’t be Dave Lister.”

“That’s just the sort of brave you’d say, isn’t it?” said Rimmer. “You’re always so certain that you can defeat the odds, but I don't think the same way! I’m a coward! I’m not strong like you are.”

“You’re selling yourself short Rimmer. You’re stronger than you think.” Lister told him. “You don’t have to act like me to be brave. You’ve been fighting a hell of a battle, and you’ve done it all by yourself. You’re not weak, you just need some reinforcements.”

Lister’s words broke through Rimmer’s thick walls of doubt and insecurity. Not only had his crew mate acknowledged how hard his struggle really was, but he commended Rimmer for facing his adversity head-on. He didn’t meet Rimmer’s tears with scorn or shame, but instead, Lister chose to comfort him, and assure him that help was on its way. Rimmer’s tears had dried up by now, and his grip loosened on Lister’s back. He even managed a tiny smile as he brought his head upwards to look into Lister’s eyes.

“I was getting overwhelmed, but you arrived just on time, Lister,” said Rimmer. Clarity was starting to return to his voice as he spoke. “I’m truly grateful.” he added sincerely.

“I’ll always show up when you need me.” Lister replied. “You and the others are my family now, Rimmer. It’s my job to keep you safe and come back home to you.”

Rimmer was taken aback by Lister’s words. They were so simple, and yet, so deep at the same time. Were they all family now? Lister’s upbringing couldn’t have been more opposite to his. In Rimmer’s experience, “family,” had been a list of people to look up to and obey. But then Lister came along, and shaken the rigid definition of the word. To Lister, family wasn’t about great names or traditions to uphold. It was about those he spent his time with, who he valued, and who he risked his life to protect. And while he wasn’t sure when it happened, Lister had brought Rimmer into his fold. 

There was nothing else to do but accept Lister exactly as he was. He wasn’t the charming, masked man who danced with Rimmer once upon a dream. He was no knight in shining armor, or even a serious man-at-arms. But Lister was truly reliable when it really counted. He never gave up hope, and always came through.

Rimmer pulled away from their embrace, and took a hold of Lister’s hands. He then leaned in close, and gently pressed their foreheads together. Lister returned the gesture, lacing his fingers in between Rimmer’s and holding them in place. They both stood still in silence. Just above them, the planetary model spun in its programmed path. For just a moment, this was their part of the universe, and it all was revolving around them. Nothing or no one could harm or separate them.

“Lister, I might not feel like telling you this when I get back to being myself again, so I want you to remember what I’m about to say,” said Rimmer. “I’m going to place my faith in you. That’s the highest honor coming from me. I won’t say this to just _anyone_.”

“How great of an honor are we talking about here?” Lister asked. His voice took on a teasing edge as a full smile spread across his face. “Is it something like knighthood, Rimmer? What title are you gonna give me, Sir Lister of Smeg?” 

Rimmer let out a chuckle as he stepped backwards, but still held on to Lister’s hands with both of his.

“It’s not quite _knighthood_ , Listy. I’m not royalty after all,” Rimmer replied. His tone had all but returned to normal. “But if I were able to give you a title, I think _that_ one would suit you just fine.”

“Come on, don’t I at least get _something_ as a symbol of your trust?” Lister asked him. “How about a fancy hat?” he suggested.

“If you give me a couple of days in the Cat’s wardrobes, I could just about manage a hat.” said Rimmer.

The two of them burst into laughter. It was a ridiculous answer to an equally silly question, but that was their normal. It was a great relief that the feeling was slowly returning to them. Any tension that Lister and Rimmer might have felt towards one another had completely dissolved. It had been replaced by calm and contentment. Even after all of his recent hardships, Rimmer truly believed that everything was going to go right for once. He could rely on Lister and the others if he really had to. He wasn’t alone. Out of all the things Rimmer gained in his second life, his steadfast companions had been the most important.

“How are you feeling now, Rimmer?” asked Lister.

Rimmer let go of Lister’s hands, gently setting them down as he kept his gaze on his crew mate. His eyes were sharper now, and much more aware. He straightened out his posture, standing up at his full height. Even among holograms, Rimmer was making a quick recovery.

“I’m going to be alright, Lister,” said Rimmer. “I want to thank you for being here with me today. It means a lot to me.”

“Let’s head back.” said Lister. “Kryten will go spare if we miss another dinner.”

“I know. Now that I’m hard light, he insists I join you all for meal times.” said Rimmer. “And as for the Cat, we can’t leave _him_ unsupervised for long. One time, he mistook the red alert bulb for a laser pointer and he was trying to hit off the wall.”

“We can’t be having that now, can we?” Lister mused. He touched his left temple, starting the boot down sequence on the AR helmet in reality.

“I won’t stand for it. If anything _funny_ happened while we were away, let’s just say that there will be words,” Rimmer replied. He also started the boot down sequence.

The two of them waited for only a short time before the AR Suite gave them a prompt.

“Do you want to exit? Y/N?”

Selecting “yes”, they were brought out of the simulation and back into their actual reality. Right away, Rimmer could tell that something was wrong. For some reason, it didn’t feel like his feet were planted on the floor, when they should have been. He removed the helmet and visor, taking a look around.

Rimmer was floating in midair! At first he thought it might have been a _real_ stress-induced glitch, but then he noted that Lister was floating too. Some of the other objects in the AR suite were floating as well: the other helmets, some notepads, a pencil, and one of Lister’s dirty socks. As if the floating wasn’t bad enough, the whole room seemed to be vibrating at an alarming speed and the yellow alert sirens were flashing.

Rimmer half-swam, half-floated over to Lister and grabbed a hold of his arm. Lister was keeping himself in place by holding on to a railing.

“What the smeg is going on here?” Rimmer asked. “How did we lose gravity?”

“I don’t know, but it’s got to be something serious.” said Lister. “The Bug’s shaking faster than a Vegas showgirl. We’ve got to see what’s going on.”

“Wait, Lister. Before we go anywhere in zero gravity, we have to take basic safety measures.” Rimmer said. “We need a tether. There should be one in every room.”

Rimmer eyes searched around quickly for it. It didn’t take him long to spot it. He floated over to a long, plastic box with a lever on the side. Written on the box in large, red letters were the words:

Zero Gravity Lifeline Cable  
Emergency Use Only

The box had a thick, orange rope inside. Rimmer gave the lever on the side of the box a few good kicks, until it finally propped open. He then grabbed a hold of one end of the rope, and handed another end off to Lister. They each took a few minutes to fasten the tethers as tightly as possible around their waists. Then Rimmer looped the end of his rope around a middle railing that was exactly halfway between the floor and the ceiling. There would be railings like this all throughout the ship, which would help the crew navigate through it when they lost gravity.

“We’ve got our lifelines in place. Where should we go first?” asked Lister.

“We’ll get to our quarters so we can retrieve our space suits, just in case.” Rimmer replied. “Hopefully we’ll run into the others along the way and find out what’s been happening around here.”

“I’m ready to go when you are.” said Lister.

“Right,” said Rimmer. “Let’s move out!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it! Total sillness with Cat and Lister, followed by some Lister/Rimmer sap, ending with a cliffhanger! The story isn't quite over yet, but you'll see a lot of plot threads start to tie up pretty soon! Stay tuned for a bit more drama and a lot more softness coming up!


	9. Crazy Enough to Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rimmer, Lister, Kryten and the Cat have been reunited, but it's no time to celebrate. Starbug is in a jam, and it's up to the crew to come together and find a way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have it. The Dwarfers face one last challenge and they do it as a team. This is where the "Daring Rescues at Zero Gravity" tag comes into play, and you'll see why when you read below!

Rimmer zipped along the mid-ship railings in the corridor, with Lister following close behind him. It felt like a long trip down the hallway, especially when they were only halfway in control of their own bodies. When they did reach their sleeping quarters, the door was shut. The emergency locks must have activated whenever the yellow alert was sounded.

Rimmer gave the command to override the locks, allowing himself and Lister inside. They floated into their bunk room, into a sea of their belongings suspended in midair. Lister’s guitar hovered near the top bunk, and somehow had all the strings attached. Rimmer’s stamp collection was floating by the window, with all its yellowed pages open for all to see. He’d gotten a stamp for every place he visited on planet leave. From what he could see, he hadn’t lost a single one.

Lister’s face lit up in excitement as he took a floating music record on his hands.

“It’s the only copy of _Smeg and the Heads’_ single! I’ve been looking for this forever.” said Lister.

“Is that the “ _Om_ ” song? That’s a regular classic, Lister, it’s pure gold.” said Rimmer. “But we don’t have time to play it right now. Don’t forget why we’re here.” he added quickly.

“I know. We’ve got to get suited up.” said Lister.

Lister set the album near the top bunk for safekeeping. When their gravity came back, he’d have to dig it out of his covers. He then made his way to the closet past the foot of their bunk beds.

Rimmer already had both suits and handed Lister’s over so he could change into it. Even as a hologram, Rimmer still needed his space suit. While he no longer required oxygen, it gave his light bee an extra layer of protection if the worst happened and he was powered down. It was a lot easier to find a man-sized space suit than a projection unit that was no bigger than a potato.

Once they donned their suits, helmets and all and adjusted their tethers accordingly, Rimmer turned to face Lister.

“Do you have any idea where the others might be?” Rimmer asked him.

“They might be looking for us,” said Lister. “This whole time, we’ve probably been a step ahead of them.”

“Then I suggest we sit tight and wait for them,” said Rimmer. “Our room is safe enough. There’s nothing sharp floating around at least.”

A short distance away, Rimmer started to hear two familiar voices. He and Lister looked at the doorway as the sounds closed in on them. Rimmer could definitely make out the Cat’s voice asking a series of questions. The other voice sounded like Kryten, trying and failing to explain the situation. At least those two were acting like themselves. And maybe they’d be marginally helpful in straightening out this zero gravity mess.

Kryten and the Cat’s voices became clearer when they came into the doorway.

The Cat was in his shiny, golden space suit. He had one arm on his hip, while the other was grabbing hold of the middle railing. Kryten was staring at him with a look of exasperation.

“We’ve looked over the bunk room at least twice now, Mister Cat, once separately and once together!” Kryten exclaimed. “Both times, we came up empty handed!”

“I still think I’m closer to finding them than you are,” said the Cat. “I’m not the one who wasted our time checking in the _laundry room_.”

“Mister Lister was bound to drop off his dirty socks!” said Kryten. “And Mister Rimmer is _very_ particular about how much fabric softener I use on his bed sheets.”

“Kryten, I’m right here,” said Rimmer. “You know I despise it when you carry on about my habits as if they’re anything strange. Soft sheets are one of the few luxuries I get on board this ship.”

“Mister Rimmer, I swear I didn’t see you!” Kryten exclaimed, surprised. “How long have you been standing here?”

“It’s been long enough.” Rimmer replied.

“Hey, guys!” Lister said, casually waving to greet them. “We actually just got here. We’ve been waiting for you!”

“Where else did _you_ go, Bud? We’ve been looking high and low for you!” the Cat exclaimed.

“Well, about that, it’s kind of a long story.” Lister replied sheepishly. “And I don't think I have time to draw pictures.” 

“What’s important now is that we’ve all found each other,” said Rimmer. “Let’s gather around the table and share information. Perhaps one of you can enlighten me as to what happened during my leave of absence?”

Following Rimmer’s instructions, the crew of four formed a circle, best they could in zero gravity just above the table. Although they were unable to sit in the chairs properly, this was as close to a proper briefing that they could get. A small level of formality and professionalism pleased Rimmer at least. The others were actually taking this matter seriously.

“We took a direct hit from an electromagnetic storm, sir. We’re in the middle of it as we speak.” Kryten explained. “It took out our gravity stabilizer. Mister Cat and I have been in the air for almost twenty minutes!”

“We were looking for you guys separately at first. But then Robo-Bud told me to suit up and put on my safety belt!” said the Cat, running his hand over the orange lifeline.

“Naturally, I had to pull him away from the mirror.” Kryten commented.

“How’d you manage that, Krytes?” asked Lister.

“I promised him some tilapia if he helped me get you and Mister Rimmer to safety, sir.” said Kryten.

“Were you able to get any readout on how long the storm will last?” Rimmer asked.

“I’m afraid not, sir. The outer bands disrupted our sensors.” said Kryten. “We have been flying blind ever since it made impact with us.” 

“It’s already knocked out our gravity. I don’t think we should wait this one out," said Lister. “This ship could get folded up more ways than a paper crane if we hang around too long.”

“If we can’t hunker down and weather the storm, then we’ll have to escape it somehow,” said Rimmer. “Any ideas, gentlemen?”

“The typical way is to find the lightest part of the storm and navigate through it,” said Kryten. “Since we don’t know where that is, we’ll have to think of something else.”

“Can’t we just find a deserted island planet and play with a big white ball until someone comes and picks us up?” asked the Cat.

“What a stellar idea, Mister Cat, with just two major drawbacks.” said Kryten. “One, our sensors are down, so I’m not sure where we’d find a deserted island planet. And second, I don’t think anyone friendly would respond to an S.O.S. call from us like they would in the movie _Castaway_.”

“You _always_ find something wrong with my plans!” said the Cat. “I haven’t seen _you_ think your way out of this yet!”

“Electro-storms in space aren’t much different than the thunderstorms we’d have on Io.” Rimmer said thoughtfully. “I could always tell when we were about to have a bad one. Even Space Corps pilots would fly below the clouds. That was a lot safer than going through them.”

Lister’s eyes lit up upon hearing Rimmer’s last two sentences. “They flew _below_ the clouds! That’s it! I think I know how I’m gonna get us out of here!” he exclaimed.

“What’s your plan, and why is it better than mine?” asked the Cat.

“Just hear me out, I know what to do.” said Lister. “We’ll point the Bug straight downwards, and then we’ll use our full speed to punch through to the bottom. Once we’re in the clear and the sensors come back, we’ll see where the storm’s going and head up and away from it.”

"That sounds like a rather bold and daring maneuver, sir." said Kryten. "You really do read the _Astronavigation Official Texts_ after all!"

"I didn't get this idea from a book," said Lister. "I got it from one of the greatest plays in Zero-G Football history!"

"Wait, I think I know this one!" said the Cat, looking to Lister. "It's just like that game we watched! That big guy you were rooting for just swan dived all the way down, and then he came back up and scored!"

"Our only viable plan is to imitate a move from Zero-G Football?" asked Rimmer. 

"It was the _winning_ move!" said the Cat.

"That's a crazy idea," said Rimmer. 

And Rimmer was going to leave it at that. Cynicism and doubt came a lot more naturally to him. He hadn't really known what optimism was, and it had become a habit for him to hold down his head and admit defeat. That was the easy way.

But the easy way fell short of what Rimmer really wanted. He learned another way of thinking, one he hadn't dared to try before. When he was pushed against the wall, he didn't close his eyes and wait for the end to come. Rimmer had learned to fight back against the hand life had dealt him. He had to continue fighting, for Kryten, who'd talked him through his memories, for the Cat, whose mischievous chaos kept him on his toes, for Holly, who gave him another chance to live, and for Lister, who promised to be there for him. 

Rimmer formed his hand into a tight fist, ready to jump into the fray for his sake and theirs. 

"But it's crazy enough to work!" Rimmer exclaimed with determination. "Let's do it!"

"Cheers!" said Lister. "We're gonna pull this off, guys. I can feel it!"

"Since we're making a direct nosedive, we'll need a good formation," said Rimmer. Within seconds he started to visualize the colorful pages of _Astronavigation and Strategy Made Simple_ , and the answer came to him. "I suggest the Chain Formation." 

"I'd hate to be the bringer of bad news, but Hamster Cheeks and I are the only ones wearing chains." said the Cat. 

"We would be the ones making the chain, sir." said Kryten. "Combining our tethers, we would each form a link from the front to the rear."

“I’m taking the front spot,” said Lister. “I know exactly how Jim Bexley Speed moved in the arena. I can pilot _Starbug_ the same way.”

“Well, that’s one position filled,” said Kryten. “Should we engage in a friendly match of Rock-Paper-Scissors to decide the other three places?” he asked.

“There’s no need, Kryten. I’ve worked it out.” said Rimmer. “Cat, you’ll be taking the third position. That would be best for someone with your reflexes. If the people ahead of you get into trouble, you’ll have to catch the lifeline and relay a message to the rear for them to pull up the slack.”

“Wow, three sounds like such an important number!” said the Cat. “I’ll take it!”

“Well, that just leaves the two of us, Mister Rimmer, sir,” said Kryten. “I have an idea of how you’ll place us already. I am prepared to take the risks of forming the second link of the chain.”

“Actually, Kryten, you’ll be making our fourth link, at the rear,” said Rimmer.

“I beg your pardon, sir? You’re placing _me_ in the back?” asked Kryten. “Are you sure?”

“You’ve got a grip stronger than a Danish arm wrestler. If anyone can bring us back should we fall out of line, it’s you,” said Rimmer. “And as for me, I’ll be forming the second link. I’ll be a couple of meters behind Lister.”

“What makes you want to be so close to the action all of the sudden?” Lister teased. “You can’t take your eyes off me now, can you?” he added, winking.

“There’s an old Space Corps saying that applies here, Lister,” Rimmer replied, grinning. “Behind every high-flying pilot, there’s an annoying backseat-driving co-pilot making sure he doesn’t get blown to bits. I’m more than happy to fill the role that keeps us all in one piece.”

“Well, I’ve got no problems with that,” said Lister. “Just don’t tell me you want to stop for a Frappuccino halfway through the trip.” he added playfully.

“If we make it out of this, we’ll have more than an iced coffee to celebrate with,” said Rimmer. “I’ll break out my bourbon, and I might even share.”

“That would be wondrous, sir. I might even make the effort to get out the tablecloth and those nice place mats I found on that catering ship three months ago,” said Kryten. “Soon we’ll have another night to remember, and no mistake!”

“And I’ll get to try on my brand new evening wear! I’m sure I’ll look dazzling as ever,” said the Cat confidently.

“Let’s do this, guys,” said Lister. “We’ve got work to do now, but later, we’ll be up for some _major_ R and R!”

The four of them nodded, and then dispersed from the bunk room. They cruised along the corridors, until they reached the cockpit. Each of them fastened their lifelines in a way where they were all connected. Rimmer double-checked all the safety clips. Just because he was going along with this plan, didn’t mean he had to throw all caution to the side. When he was sure they were secure, he stepped into position. The Cat and Kryten lined up behind him, each grabbing the handle or railing closest to them, while Lister stepped in front, holding on to both sides of the steering wheel.

“We’re about to dive! Everyone hold on tight!” Lister exclaimed.

“I’m ready, Mister Lister, sir!” exclaimed Kryten.

“The middle’s secure, Bud!” said the Cat.

“Take us down, Lister, and keep us steady!” Rimmer commanded.

“Right, here we go!” said Lister.

Lister tilted the steering wheel forwards, driving the nose of _Starbug_ downward. The wheel shook in his hands as the electromagnetic clouds raged just outside the ship walls. He ignored the shaking sensation and kept his hold steady. He stopped when he felt that _Starbug_ was in its correct place, and then he hit the forward thrusters. Pressing a few switches, Lister opened the engines to max power, and the ship began its descent through the clouds.

To say the ride was bumpy was an understatement. Rimmer could remember about a thousand rides that were more comfortable, as _Starbug_ rattled against the storm and its own acceleration. There were scrapes, pings and scratches against the Bug’s outer walls. A storm of this size definitely picked up debris from other parts of space, and now it was bringing it straight to them. There could be anything out there. Rimmer hoped that the scrap metal was small enough to just bounce off them, and that it wouldn’t lead to any lasting damage.

Among the whirling debris, a lone garbage pod was being thrown about. It had been one that they discarded just two weeks prior, filled with rubbish that they just couldn’t find any more ways to recycle or reuse. It seemed inconsequential at the time, but one’s trash had a way of making its way back. On Earth, this usually came in the form of garbage islands or oil spills. But in space, it meant that a small pod was on a collision course with one of the main thrusters. And with no sensors to alert them about it, Rimmer and the rest of the crew had no way of knowing it was even there, until it was too late.

The garbage pod crashed into the center of _Starbug’s_ rear engine. The ship lurched forward, and it accelerated even faster than its full speed. Kryten and the Cat held on firmly to their respective handholds, keeping their other hands on the orange lifeline cable. Lister tried to hold steady through the turbulence, but the sudden increase in speed proved to be too much for him to handle. The steering wheel slipped from his hands, and he was sent flying from his chair.

“Lister!” Rimmer called out his name, letting go of his handhold and grabbing onto the tether.

Rimmer slid down the lifeline cable quickly. There was no time to think or second-guess this time, he had to act. He all but forced himself to pick up momentum, as he raced down and reached as far as he could. He caught Lister by the hand, and gripped him tightly. The two of them slid a few centimeters down the cable, until they abruptly stopped in place.

Lister had his eyes shut tight. He was certain that this was the end, and he expected to be flung through the _Starbug’s_ front window any moment now. That was when he felt his body stop. He opened his eyes slowly, to see Rimmer’s face looking down at him with a mixture of worry and relief.

“Don’t worry Lister, I’ve got you!” said Rimmer. “Just hold on tight and don’t look down!”

“Where should I look exactly?” Lister asked. His voice was slightly panicked.

“Just keep your eyes on me,” Rimmer told him calmly. “You’re going to be fine, Lister. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Lister nodded and heeded Rimmer's words, keeping his gaze fixed on him. It all felt surreal. He had fallen, he was certainly finished, but then Rimmer had dived down to catch him! And he was speaking so calmly to him, instead of scolding him and calling him an adrenaline seeking imbecile, among other things. It's almost like he was acting truly heroic.

Further up the lifeline's chain, the Cat's reflexes served them all well. As soon as Lister fell and Rimmer jumped down after him, the Cat gripped the cable and held it still. He gritted his teeth as it pulled against his one of his gloves. It took all his strength just to slow it down. 

"Robo-Bud, I need back-up!" the Cat. "They're going down quicker than me when I dance the Limbo!"

"I'm on it, Mister Cat, sir! Just keep your hand on that tether!" Kryten replied. 

Kryten grabbed the lifeline tightly, and stopped its downward acceleration. Once he stopped the rope in its place, he pulled it upward with all his might. He bypassed his own pain circuits, as he gave the lifeline another good tug. The Cat joined Kryten in his efforts, and together, they started to lift their crew mates toward safer ground. 

As they were pulled upward and inward, Lister was regaining some of his composure. With his free hand, he grabbed a hold of the lifeline and held on tight. He couldn’t slip out of Rimmer's grasp and let his valiant effort to save him go to waste. He was going to do his own part in staying alive.

Rimmer and Lister were brought slowly onto the solid, but shaky surface of the drivers’ console. Just above them, the Cat’s muscles relaxed a little, and Kryten’s calm circuits went back to their usual functions. And while their fellow crew members made it to safety, both the Cat and Kryten knew it was too soon to let down their guard. They had to be prepared if there was another bump in their path like that one.

Lister was on his knees, trying to catch his breath while Rimmer slowly floated down beside him. Rimmer held on to Lister’s shoulders, just to let him know that he was still there for him. As Lister continued to draw in heavy breaths, Rimmer wrapped an arm around his back and kept it there as a gesture of reassurance.

“We’re safe now, Lister, or at least, we’re safer than earlier,” said Rimmer. “Are you okay?”

“I’m shaken up, but I'll be fine,” Lister replied. He grabbed the left handle of the steering wheel with a shaky arm. “We're still pointing down! I’ve got to finish the maneuver!” 

Keeping his arm around Lister’s back, Rimmer grabbed the right handle of the steering wheel.

"We’ll do it together this time!” Rimmer exclaimed.

Lister wore a look of surprise on his face for a second, but then he smiled and nodded his head. He wrapped his right arm around Rimmer’s back, and kept his eyes on his part of the steering wheel.

“Right, we’ll take off on the count of three!” Lister said. “Ready?”

“One, two, three!” The both of them counted in unison.

When they reached the end of their countdown, Lister slammed his foot on the accelerator pedal. _Starbug_ began its descent, sturdier this time. They passed through the lighter parts of the storm, and could no longer hear the sounds of anything else making contact with the ship. For a moment, the purplish gray electromagnetic clouds blocked the window’s views completely. But then the clouds parted, and the dark sea of space could be seen once more.

As they passed into clear space, the sounds of about a dozen beeps, chimes and tiny fans filled the cockpit. The sensors had returned, all of them whirring, blinking and humming to life. Although he was further down the chain formation, Rimmer thought he could hear Kryten say the word “extraordinary.” _Starbug’s_ digital eyes and ears had been opened again.

And now it was a matter of finding where to stay in the clear, away from the thick clouds. Rimmer noticed the radar next to his side of the steering wheel turn on, and he watched as it went about its usual business. It picked up objects above, below, and to the sides of them.

It showed the storm clouds. They were vast, and immeasurable by the radar, they were off the charts. There were also little dots, symbolizing asteroids and pieces of debris left behind. None of them were near enough to matter. What did matter, however, was a little red dot that Rimmer remembered from before. _Red Dwarf_ was still here! And from the look of it, the mining ship was headed away from the storm entirely.

“Rimmer, we have sensors again, I can hear them!” said Lister. “The radar should be on your side. Tell me which direction I should pull up!”

“Do you trust me, Lister?” Rimmer asked him.

“What kind of question is that?” Lister asked him quickly. 

“It’s a perfectly reasonable question given our situation!” Rimmer snapped. “Now I’ll ask you again. Do you trust me?”

“We decided that you were gonna be my annoying backseat co-pilot, didn’t we?” Lister said. “Just tell me the way to go!”

“Head west,” said Rimmer. “The storm’s going eastward.”

“I’m putting in the coordinates,” Lister said. “And we’re off!”

Acting as one, Rimmer and Lister tilted the wheel to point _Starbug_ upwards again. Following the digital compass, they made it face westward. Lister turned on the accelerator, this time with only three fourths of the thruster’s power. It was a smooth, easy ride into the clearer side of space. And once they were completely in the clear, Lister killed the engines and put _Starbug_ back into hover mode.

In the few moments of quiet and stillness that followed, a realization made its way across Rimmer, Lister, Cat and Kryten’s collective minds.

“Guys, we made it,” said Lister. His eyes were filled with tears of joy. “We really made it!"

"That was splendid, Lister!" Rimmer exclaimed happily. "You were incredible!"

Forgetting the fact that they were still in zero gravity, Rimmer tackled Lister into a hug, spinning them around in a circle. He couldn't contain himself! His joy circuits had kicked into their highest gear. He survived, they _all_ had! They had beaten tough odds yet again.

"You were pretty amazing yourself, you know," said Lister sincerely. "You’re the one who slid down the rope to catch me."

"Oh, that? It was nothing, really," Rimmer said modestly. 

Lister leaned in closer, resting his helmet against Rimmer’s.

"Just take the credit, man," said Lister. “You were brave, Rimmer.”

Lister's words were what really made the idea sink in. Rimmer had been courageous! It wasn't a trait he thought he possessed, but maybe it was with him all along. Maybe it only came out when he absolutely needed it to. What's important is that his bravery made it possible for him to be here right now with Lister, sharing smiles, laughter and even their closeness. Rimmer's closest companion was in one piece and truly _alive_ in all senses of the word. He couldn't have asked for a better outcome.

"I'd come and save you again if I really had to," said Rimmer softly. "Now, I'd probably use a much safer method, of course! But I would be there for you."

Before Lister and Rimmer could say anymore, a golden blur made its way between them. The Cat poked his head in the middle, gently shoving them apart. 

"If you guys are handing out praise, don't leave _me_ out!" said the Cat. "I was pretty fearless too. I pulled you up with just one hand!"

Lister patted the Cat's shoulder.

"I could never forget you, Cat. We all did great." said Lister.

"I knew I picked the right place in formation for you," said Rimmer. "Your actions were quite commendable, Cat."

As the Cat basked in compliments from Lister and Rimmer, Kryten came floating towards them from the back. 

"Mister Lister! Mister Rimmer!" Kryten exclaimed. "Thank heavens you're safe, I was so worried about you!"

"There's no reason to fuss, Kryten. We're both sturdy enough," said Lister. "Rimmer and I can make it back from anything."

"Resilience has always been one of my strong suits,” Rimmer added. 

"Are you sure you're not injured though, sirs? Perhaps I should double check!" Kryten replied. 

Before either of them could protest, Kryten grabbed a hold of Lister's arm, feeling his pulse. He then started poking various spots on Rimmer's uniform shirt, looking for any holes in his projected image. The both of them shoved him off rather easily. 

"Kryten, for smeg's sake!" Lister and Rimmer exclaimed in unison. 

Kryten stopped his frantic examination, regarding the others with a surprised look on his face. 

"I'm glad you care about us, but we're fine, man," said Lister.

"I can assure you, I’m completely unharmed," said Rimmer. "Well, I am on the outside, anyway.”

“So when are we gonna start our party?” asked the Cat. “That’s what we always do when we live through something big! Are we gonna stay in the air?”

“That’s right; our gravity still hasn’t been restored! Luckily, it should be easy for me to fix,” said Kryten. “The stabilizer is designed so even the simplest mind can put it back together again.”

“In that case, I’m going with you,” said Rimmer.

“I assure you sir, I’m perfectly capable of handling the job myself,” Kryten replied.

“Kryten, need I remind you about Space Corps Directive number fifteen point three, stroke D?” said Rimmer.

There was a pause as they all thought about it.

“Fifteen point three, stroke D, states that any technician performing maintenance on the swimming pools must not ogle attendees at the pool of any gender, regardless of how little their swimwear covers their bodies,” said Kryten. “Does that truly apply here sir?”

“I didn’t know we had a pool,” said Lister.

“I didn’t know we had people around to ogle,” the Cat commented.

“That’s not the right one, you idiots!” Rimmer exclaimed, frustrated. “I’m talking about the rule which states that every droid or service robot performing a task must have at least one technician or engineer supervising their work at all times.”

“That would actually be Space Corps Directive fifteen point _two_ stroke D, sir,” said Kryten.

“Who cares what number it is?! It’s still part of the regulations,” said Rimmer. “We’ll meet in the engine room, within ten minutes.” he ordered.

“Yes, sir, I’ll be right on time,” said Kryten.

Rimmer unhooked his tether from Lister and the Cat, and floated out of the cockpit into the hallway. Kryten followed suit, making his exit shortly after. The Cat and Lister were left up front, still connected to one another by their tethers.

Lister shook his head at Rimmer’s puffed up display of authority.

“It didn’t take long for Rimmer to get back to his old self, did it?” Lister commented. “I thought he was gonna be nice just a bit longer.”

“One minute he calls you ‘commendable’ and the next, he starts getting huffy again,” said the Cat. “I just don’t _get_ him sometimes.”

“Either way, it was good while it lasted,” said Lister. “Why don’t we take a look at the maps and figure out where we are?”

“Maybe we’ll find another ocean planet!” said the Cat. “We never did get to go on that fishing trip.”

While Lister and the Cat pored over the maps and radars, Rimmer had made his way to the engine room. He had to fetch his magnetic toolbox from the bunk room; otherwise the trip would have only taken him five minutes. Kryten was punctual, just like he said he would be. Unlike Lister, Kryten didn’t start repair jobs with small talk. He went straight to work, examining the gravity stabilizer. It was a small circle attached to the wall that was no bigger than a dinner plate. The indicator light on the outside, which showed whether it was working or not, was shining bright red, symbolizing that it was definitely offline.

“There’s no damage to the cover, so it must be something internal,” said Kryten.

Rimmer handed him a flat head screwdriver. “Well, go on then, open it up.” he said.

Kryten twisted the screwdriver a few times. He held two smaller screws as they came loose, and the cover plate came open. Rimmer peered inside as he revealed the inner workings of the machine. Kryten had been right about the design; it was very easy to pinpoint what was wrong. A few tightened screws and a couple switched fuses would get it back working again.

“It’ll be fuses number two and three, and almost every single screw except number eighteen,” Rimmer said. He took the flat head from Kryten’s hand, and switched it out for a Philip’s head.

“I always thought this was a curious little mechanism, sir.” Kryten commented as he took the tool in his hand, and went about tightening the first and second screws. “Space Corps engineers are supposed to be among the best of their class, but then they designed our gravity machines to mount on the wall, when they should be safely tucked away with the ship's core computer. It’s baffling.”

“It’s not so baffling when you meet engineers face-to-face." Rimmer answered him. "Most of the time they’re higher than a kite and about half as bright."

"That's not what I read, sir. Just about every brilliant, life-changing invention has a Space Corps engineer's signature on the patent." said Kryten. 

"Even brilliant minds have their dull spots, Kryten," said Rimmer. 

"I suppose the opposite can be true as well, Mister Rimmer," said Kryten. He tightened another few loose screws. 

"I know it, Kryten. Lister really surprised me when he performed his little stunt," said Rimmer.

"That was truly awe-inspiring, but I wasn't talking about Mister Lister," said Kryten. He turned the screwdriver yet again. Screw number twelve was giving him trouble, but he kept turning it. "I was talking about you, Mister Rimmer, sir."

“With you, I can’t tell if that’s an insult or a compliment,” Rimmer replied defensively.

“It’s neither one of those, sir. It’s merely an observation,” said Kryten. “Even though you were under immense pressure, you formed a strategy and you stuck to it. When Mister Lister fell, you didn’t hesitate to go down after him! Then it was at least half of your efforts that brought us back into clear space again, sir. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this from you before.”

“Keeping that encoded memory was painful, Kryten. In many ways, it still is,” Rimmer explained. “But it changed something in me. It made want to stop passively accepting any terrible thing that came my way. It gave me this burning rage inside, and it made me want to start fighting back.”

“Are you telling me that you have developed your own sense of righteous fury, sir?” asked Kryten.

“I suppose you could call it that. But I don’t have any grand reason for feeling that way,” Rimmer admitted.

“You don’t need to follow a standard set of ideals, sir,” said Kryten. “You just have to possess a strong desire to protect what and whom you value the most.”

“We both know I’m terrible about admitting who I value besides myself,” said Rimmer. “I can never find the right words to express how I feel.”

Kryten turned the final screw. The indicator light on the gravity stabilizer now flashed a yellow color, showing that it was almost ready to work as it should. Rimmer did the honors of flipping the two fuses back in to place, and the light turned from yellow to green. As per regulations, the stabilizer let Rimmer and Kryten down slowly to the floor, while the regular force of gravity returned to _Starbug_.

“So I hope my actions speak for me,” said Rimmer. “That’s the only way I can show what I really mean.”

“I hear you, Mister Rimmer, sir,” said Kryten.

“Our gravity is back to normal now, Kryten. We should catch up with Lister and the Cat.” Rimmer said, changing the subject.

And with gravity back in its proper working order, Rimmer and Kryten took off their tether cables, and made their way back to the front. Lister and the Cat had returned to their respective chairs, and were properly sitting in them this time. Lister had his eyes on his map for the longest time, until he pulled back, wearing a surprised expression. He looked up at Rimmer and Kryten, and then to the side at the Cat.

“Hey guys, get a load of this!” Lister exclaimed.

“What is it?” Rimmer asked. He came to Lister’s side first, hoping that he was pointing out some good news. He needed to hear it.

Lister pointed his finger at a little red dot on his map screen. “Check it out! According to all the scanners, this little red dot ahead of us is _Red Dwarf_!”

“All the serial numbers on the digital signature check out,” said Kryten. “This should be _our_ _Red Dwarf_ from this dimension.”

The Cat had to stop himself from slapping his own radar. “So that’s not a laser pointer either?” he asked.

“That’s definitely the old mining ship, still flying somehow even though it’s been lost for two hundred years,” said Lister.

“She’s already got three million years’ worth of mileage on her, what’s a few more centuries?” said Rimmer.

“I say it’s about time we caught up with Holly,” said Lister. 

“Right! Cat, plot a course for _Red Dwarf_!” said Rimmer excitedly. “And Lister, relay a message to Holly in English and Binary Code!”

"Are you sure you wanna do this, Rimmer? Any message now will take two months to reach him." said Lister.

"That's perfect!" Rimmer exclaimed. "Go on, patch us through!"

Lister complied, punching a few buttons on his console to open up the mic.

“Holly, prepare a welcoming party for us,” said Rimmer, smiling. “We’ll be home for Christmas!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Boys from the Dwarf have made it out of the storm, and they're headed towards their mother ship! All is well again, but the story isn't quite over. What images will Rimmer see when it's finally his time to rest? Find out in the last and final chapter of Aftershocks!


	10. Respite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the storm clear, and Starbug back on course, it's time for Rimmer to rest in the bunkroom. Lister is right there to ensure he has a good night's sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter of Aftershocks! I was ecstatic when I finally wrote this, because I never imagined that I could actually get this far. But I have. I finally wrote the happy ending after all the angst, drama and troubles that Rimmer had to go through. The final song reference at the end I got from my friend thewronglong here on AO3 as well as my Red Dwarf Discord server. That music was what drove me to finish this chapter, and this entire fic, and write Rimmer's peaceful resolution.
> 
> Enjoy the fluff, readers! If you're here at chapter 10, I thank you for making it all the way here.
> 
> Now brace yourselves for one of the sappiest endings you've probably seen in a Red Dwarf fic, ever.

The _JMC_ ship _, Starbug_ cruised at a steady pace across the endless sea of deep space. It had left the clouds of unreality far behind, and veered towards another path down the course of history. Rimmer wasn't sure when it happened, but they had finally gone past the seven day loop in time. They were far beyond it now. 

It was something, how unremarkable the passage of time was. In movies, it showed up as ripped calendar pages counting up the days. A clock striking midnight on a new day sounded far more dramatic than the tiny beep that Rimmer heard from the digital clock near his console. But reality was often more quiet than the movies, and Rimmer was actually glad for it. He could use a few more days of the quieter sounds of everyday life. 

The Cat had finally gotten his salmon. He'd eaten it to his heart's content, along with the tilapia that Kryten prepared especially for him. He was stuffed and soon he rested with his shiny silver pillow after switching on the autopilot. Kryten had covered him in a maroon, fuzzy blanket soon after he dozed off. 

And after he'd taken care of the Cat, Kryten had soon gone off to handle his own affairs. What the rest of the crew didn't know was that he'd set up a miniature TV screen in the laundry room, where he could watch and listen to his favorite mechanoid soap opera, _Androids_. Season seven was starting, and he wasn’t going to miss it.

The all too familiar feeling of tiredness overcame Rimmer. How long had it been since his last truly restful sleep? Had it been eight days, or nine? Details were lost on him. It might as well have been an eternity, because that's what it felt like. 

He nearly face planted into the keyboard on his console. Rimmer felt something strong catch him by the shoulder, and he quickly sprang back upwards. Lister's hand had caught him. 

"Rimmer, man, you look like you're gonna drop," said Lister. 

"I'm fine, Listy, just need a five minute break," said Rimmer. 

"You need a _day_ and five minutes if you ask me!" Lister said, concerned. He offered his hand out to Rimmer. "Let's go back to the bunk. We could both use some sleep."

Rimmer couldn't think of a reason to argue with Lister this time. So he took his hand, and got up out of his chair. He stumbled at first, but Lister steadied him.

They stepped inside the bunk room, and Lister shut the door behind them. Rimmer all but collapsed into the bottom bunk, holding his pillow close to his face. His light bee registered that it was almost time for bed, changing his uniform into his fuzzy, royal blue bathrobe. At last, Rimmer felt like he was truly home again. The sheets were just soft enough, and his various charts and pictures were still plastered on his bunk's walls. This was his living space, and he'd finally returned. 

Lister had disappeared into their bathroom for a few minutes, and came back out in his long white pajamas. He stopped just short of climbing the bunk bed ladder, and sat on the edge of the bottom bunk instead. Rimmer wasn't sure why he'd done this. But if Lister was here to tease him, maybe he'd just pretend to fall asleep. 

"Hey, Rimmer, remember earlier, when I said what you'd done was amazing?" asked Lister. 

"Yes, what about it?" asked Rimmer tiredly. He was in no mood for guessing games. 

"I really meant it. You saved my life today," said Lister. "You saved me twice now, but this time I'll remember it."

Rimmer reached out and held on to Lister's hand. 

"You're the one who saved me first," said Rimmer. "I'd been driven to the very edge of my own despair, and you brought me back from it."

"If you put it like that, I guess we're even!" Lister exclaimed happily.

"And what does that mean for us?" asked Rimmer, a bit suspiciously. 

"It means there are no obligations between us, Rimmer," said Lister. "We can look after each other without keeping score."

"Yes, I suppose we can, Lister," said Rimmer.

Lister pulled his hand away from Rimmer's, and drew the covers up to his bunkmate's shoulders, effectively tucking him in. 

"We should get some sleep," said Lister. "Tomorrow's a new day."

Lister climbed up onto the top bunk, and started to settle in.

“I’m not sure if I _can_ sleep,” Rimmer admitted. “That hasn’t exactly come easy for me lately.”

“You’re already lying down, you just gotta close your eyes,” said Lister. “Should I sing you a lullaby?” he added, chuckling.

“No, Lister,” Rimmer replied, turning over to face the wall side of his bunk. “I’d rather not hear the obscene version of _Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star_ when I’m trying to relax down here.”

“Hey, I know more than the pub lyrics!” Lister exclaimed. “I’d sing the real thing!”

“I’ll believe that when I hear it,” Rimmer commented sourly.

For a few minutes, there was silence. Rimmer thought that Lister had given up and drifted off to sleep. That was part of Lister’s nature, after all. He didn’t like to carry on arguing when he had a half-day’s snooze to catch up on. Rimmer turned over again to the other side of his bunk, where he could just catch a glimpse of the window that was near their TV stand. And as he contemplated the vastness of space, and how he ended up so far into it, he started to hear singing. It wasn’t from a musical record or his imagination, the tone was a bit too imperfect for that. It was Lister’s voice, and it possessed a realness to it that made him want to listen.

 _“Twinkle, twinkle, little star. How I wonder what you are...”_ Lister sang the first two lines, just the way they should be.

 _“Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky…”_ Lister went on to sing the second line, and Rimmer slowly closed his eyes as his circuits began the process to send him into holo-sleep.

And when Lister went on to sing the last line, Rimmer joined him.

 _“Twinkle, twinkle, little star. How I wonder what you are_ ,” they both finished the verse, and Rimmer drifted off into slumber, feeling safe and calm in his final waking moments of the night.

When Lister was certain that Rimmer was asleep, he turned off the lights. It didn’t take long for him to settle against the top bunk. Lister pulled the covers close to him, and hummed _Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star_ to himself one more time before he also made his way into dreamland.

Rimmer dreamed again that night.

He was sitting at a dining table. It wasn’t anything fancy, and it looked like it had been carved by hand. The entire room had that simple country home feel to it. The windows were covered with short, checkered green-and-white curtains. Colorful paintings of fruit were hanging on the walls, and a grandfather clock stood off to the right-hand corner. 

Rimmer seemed quite comfortable, wearing the same bathrobe that he’d gone to sleep in and a pair of hologrammatic reading glasses. He’d been looking through a digital almanac. It was just like the farmer’s manuals of old, except it had been computer-generated. When Rimmer examined the front cover, Holly’s name showed up as the author.

In the chair next to Rimmer, the Cat was amusing himself with a ball of rainbow colored yarn. He batted it around, and sometimes tossed it high into the air. Sometimes the Cat would catch it, and other times, he’d miss, and the yarn would drop onto the floor. Just now, the Cat had missed again, and he went diving after the yarn, shouting something about it not getting away this time.

Kryten came into view, holding a large pie in his hands that were covered in two knitted oven mitts. He set it down in the middle of the table. Its aroma filled the room, and Rimmer’s scent-giving circuits could pick up that it was an apple pie. And by the look of it, Kryten hadn’t made a half-effort with it, the top had a lattice pattern, with some parts of the crust looking braided, and other parts cut out into the shapes of little maple leaves.

“The pie is all done, sir. I checked it twice, and it’s the perfect temperature,” said Kryten dutifully. “Now it’s just a matter of waiting for it to cool off.”

Rimmer looked up from the pages of his almanac at Kryten.

“Excellent job, Kryten. Maybe Lister will come home before it gets stone cold,” Rimmer replied. “I can’t imagine what’s keeping him.”

He wondered why he said such a thing. Where did Lister go without the rest of them? And more importantly, it seemed like he was taking his time in coming back home. And while some of his old fears that Lister might not return started to crop up, Rimmer did his best to shove them aside. Lister wouldn’t do that, he thought. He wouldn’t leave him, it was his _job_ to come back home.

“All I know is, he might miss the first dibs on dessert,” said the Cat. He’d picked up the ball of yarn and was tossing it between his hands. “I want to cut the first piece right now.” he added impatiently.

“I’m sure he’ll come through the door any minute now, sirs,” said Kryten certainly.

Right on time, the front door burst open. Lister walked in, holding two brown paper bags full of various food and non-food items. He seemed pleased with himself, wearing his typical big grin on his face.

“I’m home!” he exclaimed.

“Hey there Buddy!” the Cat replied. He sprang up from his chair and looked at the bags up close. “Did you get anything for me?”

Lister set the bags down on the table and started to unpack them. He took out various fruits, vegetables, fish, and two cans of hot cocoa mix. He also took out some shiny fabric, a new fuzzy hat that he placed on his own head, four pairs of newly knitted socks, and a gently used tea kettle.

"I hit the trading jackpot, there's a little something for everybody!" Lister replied. "I got a lot for half an unspent fuel tank."

Rimmer had many questions. Where were they, and who had Lister traded with? More importantly, how could they afford to trade something valuable as a fuel tank for all these small things? It’s not that the little gifts didn’t have any value. The tea kettle, for one, was a genuine model from the 20th century. But fuel had been like liquid gold to them, practically more important than water. Were they in a place where they didn’t need it as much?

Had they actually _settled down_ somewhere, with friendly locals to trade with?

Rimmer had so much he wanted to say, but the words he said out loud didn't match what he was thinking. 

"It's good to see you've come home before dusk, Lister," said Rimmer. "Did you manage to get what I had on the list?"

"Of course, I've saved the best for last!" said Lister. He reached inside the brown paper bag, and pulled out a musical album. “Here’s one more for your nineteen sixties collection!” 

Rimmer took the album into his hands. He looked over the title, and it read: _If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears_. It was strange; he remembered having this record with him, even when the crew ventured outward on _Starbug_. Why was he getting another copy now?

“You really found it, Lister!” Rimmer exclaimed, his voice once again different than what he was thinking. “I never thought I’d hear it again!” he added.

“I felt bad that you lost that record in the accident,” Lister explained. “I’ve been trying to get another one for a few months now.”

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s play it!” Rimmer said. He walked over to a black, plastic slot, and slid the record inside. “Holly, play side A for us.” he commanded.

Holly’s face materialized in a flat monitor screen that was mounted on the wall.

“Okay, Arnold, I’m playing Side A,” said Holly.

The first few guitar chords of _California Dreamin’_ began to play when Holly spun the record. Rimmer hummed along to the opening beats along with the lyrics. Lister was starting to sing along right away, but he kept his voice low enough for everyone to hear the original track by the _Mamas and the Papas_. Kryten and the Cat soon picked up on Lister’s positive energy, joining him in song, while Cat tapped his foot and lightly snapped his fingers. During the final verse, Rimmer joined them with his voice in earnest. And as a quartet, they finished the song, and stopped when the music faded away.

Back in the bottom bunk where Rimmer rested in reality, something wonderful happened. For the first time since their search for _Red Dwarf_ began, a true, wide smile spread across his face while he slept. His positive emotional chips came together to form complex, yet hopeful feelings for where his journey would go from here. His actions _had_ made a difference, and it would be felt in all the big and small ways that mattered. And maybe this dream was just a dream, or perhaps it was a vision for new things to come. Either way, Rimmer had made up his mind. Wherever he went, he wanted to be there with Kryten, the Cat, and Lister.

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it. That's the end of this story. Again, I want to thank you, reader, for staying with it all the way to the final chapter. I also want to thank my friends on the Red Dwarf Discord server, as well as my writing buddy Ginny for helping me word-sprint most of this story's first draft in November. It was an amazing experience creating this fic through all of October and November, all from a single outline that I started clear back in August. From the drama, to the tender moments and some of the comic relief, it has been a wonderful experience, and I have enjoyed it immensely. And while this story might be over, there will be many more to come in the future.
> 
> For those who are interested, I a have crafted a Youtube Playlist, a sort of soundtrack to go along with this fic! https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLN5rI1ZS9HH-30iIyzab4tRpTolRtxWRw
> 
> Here is the list of music and how it goes along with the story:
> 
> 1\. Jon Bon Jovi: It's my Life - Rimmer's protagonist theme, showing his determination  
> 2\. Umineko OST: Black Lilliana - Music for the First Nightmare, and Rimmer's evil Future Self  
> 3\. David Bowie: As the World Falls Down - Music for the Second Dream-turned-Nightmare, Theme for Chapter 4  
> 4\. Umineko OST: The Executioner - Music for the Third Nightmare, Theme for Chapter 5  
> 5\. Beethoven: Moonlight Sonata - Music for Chapter 6  
> 6\. Michael Jackson: Don't Stop Til Ya Get Enough - More Music featured in Chapter 6, Rimmer's hallucination of a party without him  
> 7\. Final Fantasy VI OST: Celes's Theme - Holly's "farewell"  
> 8\. Detroit Symphony Orchestra: Adiago for Strings - Rimmer's despair in Chapter 7  
> 9\. Vocaloid: Judgment of Corruption - Rimmer's Final Nightmare, the corrupted courtroom in Justice World  
> 10\. Rufus Wainright: Hallelujah - Lister's regrets at the start of Chapter 8  
> 11\. Vitamin String Quartet: Iris - Lister and Rimmer's reconciliation in the AR Suite  
> 12\. Fallout Boy: The Phoenix - Lister's daring flight maneuver in Chapter 9  
> 13\. Umineko OST: Thanks for being born - The crew's reprieve after the storm has cleared  
> 14\. The Mamas & The Papas: California Dreamin' - Theme for the final chapter, and Rimmer's peaceful resolution
> 
> That is all I have to say for this one. Until next time, dear readers!


End file.
